Cannonball
by ladyjane77
Summary: At Grantham University, Dr. Elsie Hughes meets Dr. Charles Carson. Their attraction is undeniable, but what she doesn't know about Charles could mean the end of the life she has worked so hard to build. And what Charles doesn't know about Elsie might just mean the loss of the one thing he cannot afford to lose- his heart.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 _The hallway was long and dark as his silent footsteps echoed in his dream. Hurriedly, sweating and panicked, he followed the familiar marble floor to his office. The moonlight glinted off of the glossy grey-blue surface and that was all he could remember thinking as he reached for the door he so badly wanted to open but dreaded to all the same. The floor had been polished. He kept running that slip of thought through his mind. The floor was clean. Lord, was he ready for this? The floor was shiny. The indescribably long second it had taken him to play these thoughts in his head ended as he grasped the cold, worn gold doorknob and wrenched open the wooden door. "Elsie…" And then he woke._

"Ah, Mr. Carson, nice to see your handsome face again!" Nancy, the day nurse, smiled brightly at him as she pulled the shade open to reveal a blinding June morning. For a second, her features were completely obscured by the brightness of the sunshine flooding in, and all he could make out was her shadow as she moved to his bedside. "Here, hon. I bet you could use a glass of water after all that sweating you did last night. Nightmares again?" Her kind face filled with compassion, and suddenly he was inundated with genuine affection for this too-happy nurse who always seemed to have a kind word even when he was a first-rate grouch.

"Yeah." He croaked, unutterably weakened by the force of the sadness that ripped through him. He busied himself with the water glass, hoping she would miss the fat tears welling at the corners of his eyes. She didn't, of course. But she was unfailingly wise in her experience, so she let him be and left with a simple pat on his uninjured leg.

"I'll bring your breakfast in a bit," she added as she rounded the corner and disappeared into the hallway.

"Thanks." Charles whispered hoarsely, mostly to himself.

Two sharp taps sounded on the doorframe and as Charles looked up, Thomas Barrow stepped through the door. His odd colored dark grey shoes glinted brightly in the sun-saturated room. Charles was slammed back into his dream, the marble of the floor in the moonlight matching the color of Thomas's shoes. This unwanted and painful reminder twisted Charles's cracked lips into an angry grimace. Thomas looked uneasy at Charles's abrupt show of aggression, and he stopped his progress across the room. Deciding he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, Charles bit out "Why the hell are you here?"

Thomas's wary expression turned dark, and he replied, "Now Charles, I know you're in pain, but let's be civilized here. I just-"

"Yeah, I know what you want Thomas, but I'm not. I'm done, I'm out. That's it."

Thomas's eyes flashed, but he carefully retorted, "You're just going to let them go, after what they did to her?"

And that was it. That was all it took. Charles had forgotten just how long Thomas had been doing his job, and how efficient he was at getting the job done, no cost barred. But now Charles was filled with a burning anger, a raging hatred and drive that told him to rip, destroy, and ruin anyone that had caused this shift in his world. They should pay for causing such immense pain.

 _It was his first day at the university. It was a crisp September morning, and he was returning from his meeting with the dean, Violet Grantham. She wanted to make sure he was doing well, and to ask how his first classes had gone. Everything was excellent thus far, and he whistled pleasantly to himself as he took in the beautiful campus from the north windows of the hall. The entire north side of the building was constructed of windows, and as a result, the grey-blue marble floors shone brightly and light permeated the hallways. The glare was a bit dangerous, as he had narrowly avoided colliding with a cleaning crew cart when he turned that last corner. But, the day was beautiful and he was happy, so he was not worrying about much, nor paying much attention to his immediate surroundings as he gazed out the windows and continued his brisk pace._

 _That was probably why he had missed her where she was crouched retrieving a leaflet of paper she had dropped on the floor. Her dark grey sweater closely matched the shiny floor, so that all he saw in the second before he tripped over her was her greying dark auburn hair. And then:_

 _Wham!_

And then another sweet memory assaulted him.

" _Elsie," Charles breathed the word like a prayer into her neck and then nuzzled her, placing gentle, warm kisses below her ear and in a line down her neck. Elsie shuddered and attempted to gather her wits, pushing against his hold on her hands. He had her arms pinned above her head and her hands firmly clasped in his own, making it nearly impossible to struggle without hurting herself. And it was becoming harder and harder to make her body listen; he had graduated from her neck to the tops of her breasts, and his hot lips grazed the line of her shirt where it impeded his sensual progress. He paused, clearly thinking something over, and she seized the moment to scold him._

" _Charles, stop." And he did, just like that. He dropped her hands and stepped away so quickly she wasn't even certain he had moved. She felt the loss of his heat like a slap, and she knew in that moment she wouldn't be able to refuse him much longer. Taking a deep breath, Elsie readjusted her blouse so it covered her more discreetly and she brushed the loose pieces of hair away from her face. Clearing her throat, she dared to look at him. His dark eyes were absolutely on fire, and her knees gave slightly at the heat in his gaze._

"Charles?" Thomas's voice pulled Charles out of the memories like sound through a vortex, and the beeps and clicks of the hospital machines returned Charles to the situation at hand.

"What do you want?" Charles barely whispered the words, but Thomas's hungry gaze told Charles he had heard every one.

"I want you to find them. I am not going to pretend I care about what happened to you. It was your own fault, getting involved with a citizen, but I'd say you know that already." Thomas leaned in now, his burning, steady gaze boring into Charles's eyes. "I want those bastards dead, Charles. We have that in common, if not for the same reasons. I can get you back in. We managed to stop any information leaking back to Burns. He has no idea what happened or why you disappeared, and right now he doesn't care. You have one chance to go back."

A sudden, futile flicker of hope shot through Charles and he asked before thinking, "If no one found out, that means you got the guys who had…" he just couldn't say her name, not yet. He swallowed, "The guys who had her. If you have them, why aren't you looking for her and why hasn't anyone told me this!" Charles hissed the last bit, fury burning his throat.

"Two of them were taken down in a firefight and died before the ambulance arrived. The last one was some young kid, a lackey. He didn't have any details. He's scared shitless and talked like there was a fire under his balls. He doesn't know anything." The disappointment weighed heavily on Charles's heart.

Somewhere inside, he knew she couldn't possibly be alive. The bastards had either killed her before trying to escape town, or they had her someplace that no one would find, somewhere she would slowly suffer and die. He tortured himself with the morbid images in his head, the things he had seen them do to her. Charles ripped his hand down his face and looked up at Thomas. Fiercely he said, "I want to kill each and every one of them myself. No questions asked- by you, or anyone else. That's my condition."

Thomas didn't even blink. "Welcome back."

 **The Beginning**

It was his first day at the university. It was a crisp September morning, and he was returning from his meeting with the dean, Violet Crawley. She wanted to make sure he was doing well and to ask how his lesson plans and such for his first classes were going. Everything was excellent thus far, and he whistled pleasantly to himself as he took in the beautiful campus from the north windows of the hall. The entire north side of the building was constructed of windows, and as a result, the grey-blue marble floors shone brightly and light permeated the hallways. The glare was a bit dangerous, as he had narrowly avoided colliding with a cleaning crew cart when he turned that last corner. But, the day was beautiful and he was happy, so he was not worrying about much, nor paying much attention to his immediate surroundings as he gazed out the windows and continued his brisk pace.

That was probably why he had missed her where she was crouched retrieving a leaflet of paper she had dropped on the floor. Her dark grey sweater closely matched the shiny floor, so that all he saw in the second before he tripped over her was her graying dark auburn hair. And then:

Wham!

She was knocked sideways by the force of the impact and he rolled through the air in a futile effort to avoid landing on her. He ended up crossways on her body, his groin pressed tightly against hers, and in the second before she smacked him, he heard her exclaim in a thick Scottish accent, "You idiot!" Whap! Her hand made stinging impact with his side as she struggled beneath him. Abashed, he ungracefully crumpled her strewn papers as he scrambled to release her body. Unfortunately, even though he had failed to notice her kneeling there, his body now took note of her incredible curves as he slid off of her lap. His body reacted immediately; it had been much too long for him. He looked at her, fearing she had noticed his body's response to her closeness. Her eyes widened in complete surprise as she felt him harden, and in a second her surprise turned to anger. She raised her hand and slapped him across the face. "Get off get off get off!"

Charles hastily stood up. He held out his hand to help her up as well, but she swore under her breath and stood up without his help. He took a good look at her now, and had to hold his breath as he was so taken with her beautiful face. It took him a second to regain his thoughts, and he realized a second late that he should help her retrieve her papers. As he bent to pick some up, she said, "Don't help anymore, really." He felt terrible for his awfully clumsy actions in the last few minutes. For someone not accustomed to making an idiot of himself, he had certainly done a fantastic job in the last few moments, and he had no idea how to make it up to her.

"Look, Miss…? I am very sorry for what just happened. I am not usually so blundering… I… I don't even know what happened. I am truly sorry." She stood up fully now and looked him in the face for the first time. He caught his breath as her fiery blue eyes pierced his own. So beautiful and so fierce, this woman. He fought a smile as she glared at him. " How about you just leave me alone now. Believe me, I have certainly been more thoroughly acquainted with you than I would like." With that, she turned and literally marched away, leaving him with her perfume filling his nostrils and her hips swaying through his mind.

Two hours later, Charles had accomplished very little in the way of work. He had intended to finish putting his office together today so that when classes began he could focus on the students. But, after his encounter with the beautiful woman in the hall, his thoughts were filled with little else. What astounded him most was not his lack of focus, but rather the woman causing his distraction. No denying, she was one gorgeous woman, but by his usual preference of the lithe blonde type she was a complete anomaly to his romantic senses. Her hair was a deep, rich auburn with traces of grey here and there. The lines around her eyes and mouth suggested a happy life, albeit a somewhat difficult one. He was puzzled by his intense reaction to her. He had always been attracted to younger women, the kind that were good for playful relationships that ended before anyone got hurt. But damn if this woman didn't break all of his patterns. Her curves were breathtaking and just recalling the way she felt beneath him for those few seconds turned his temperature up almost unbearably. He shook his head and snapped himself back to reality. Getting up from his desk, he retrieved some shrunken heads from a box and placed them on a shelf. Turning around, he glanced at the clock on the wall and swore aloud. His meeting with the senior professor assigned to do his orientation had started five minutes ago. He grabbed his portfolio and rushed from the classroom.

Elsie Hughes stood at the desk with her arms crossed and looked down at the file one more time. The appointment card read "2:30pm, Charles Carson. Social History and Chemistry." Social history and chemistry? What a strange combination, she thought. She had no idea why the dean had asked her to handle this man's orientation. She was a professor of English, about as far from Chemistry as one could get in her mind. But, it was about time for her to take a turn, she guessed. As one of the senior professors at the small private university, it was part of her responsibility to make new professors feel comfortable and welcome before the first week of classes began. The orientation served as a way to make connections with senior professors who knew the quirks of the college and could provide guidance about the expectations of the teaching staff. Normally, the dean tried to place the new professors with a veteran of the same field, but apparently all of the professors from the other departments were unavailable, so she was stuck with a tardy, undoubtedly lackluster yearling professor too green to understand the importance of impressing his peers.

She tapped her foot in irritation and glanced again at her watch. It was now 2:45 and she was losing patience. She decided that she would wait five more minutes and then leave. If Mr. Charles Carson couldn't have the courtesy to be on time, she was not about to have the courtesy to wait all day. Her morning had begun with a flat tire, which made her late for an English Department meeting, after which she left in such a hurry that she dropped her papers on the floor in the hall whereupon some man she had never seen before rammed rudely into her and then practically took advantage of her right there in the hallway. She blushed recalling the encounter. His strange and rapid reaction to her body had surprised her so much that she was incredibly rude to him. He obviously hadn't meant to run her down, and it was her fault for stopping in such a bad spot, right around a blind corner.

Her blush deepened as the image of his body ran through her mind. She guessed he was around 60, tall and strong, with tidy salt and pepper grey hair. He was well dressed and smelled amazing, something very fresh and clean, she thought. She would never say it aloud, but her reaction mirrored his, even though she was much better able to hide it. She smiled a secret smile and turned toward the window, lost in a daydream.

Charles raced into the office. As if it wasn't bad enough he was late to begin with, after he left the classroom he had gotten completely lost in the labyrinth of complicated hallways. Glancing at the wall clock, he noticed he was 17 minutes late. Unacceptable. He was angry that he had lost focus over some silly incident with a woman. He continued through the office to the desk where he stopped to ask the receptionist for the right conference room. "Miss? I am Dr. Carson. I have a meeting with…" Charles glanced at his notebook. "a Professor Hughes? I am a little late and I was hoping you could point me in the right direction." The receptionist smiled a strange smile and said, " _Doctor_ Hughes is waiting for you in room 174. Good luck." She smiled strangely again as he gave her a questioning glance. She gave his physique a full, appreciative gaze and then leaned forward apologetically and said, "Between you and me, Dr. Hughes is… mmmm, a bit on the irritable side. And you _are_ late… I suggest you find some way to grovel. She doesn't take orientations often and she hates them to begin with. It would be in your best interest to apologize right away." She raised her eyebrows or emphasis when she said the last part, and Charles knew he was in for it. He ran his hand over his face and decided to bite the bullet. He walked briskly to the conference room door and whipped it open, only to be assaulted by the intoxicating scent of the woman from the hall. In the few moments before she turned from the window to glare at him, he took in the voluptuous curves again and he completely forgot the apology that was on the edge of his tongue. All he could do was gape like an idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

When the door whooshed open, Elsie was deep in a fantasy involving the man in the hall. _His hands were running down her hips, curving around her bottom and squeezing gently, just about to-_ when the presence of another person snapped her from the daydream. Assuming it was her green professor, she turned to aim a hearty glare at the man who dared to be twenty minutes late. As she turned, the face of her imaginary daydream lover brought her up quick and her expression registered complete shock. His face looked much like hers, jaw dropped and slight disbelief reflected in his eyes.

It took him a few seconds to recover, but once he had gathered his wits, Charles closed his mouth and swallowed. Taking a step forward, he held out his hand in a feeble gesture of greeting. The look she gave him had him snatching his hand back in chagrin, and, unable to speak for fear of making a fool of himself further, he just stood there, once again feeling like a complete idiot in this woman's presence.

She cleared her throat and said sarcastically, "Why Dr. Carson, what a pleasure this is." Realizing her comment had sounded nothing like she intended, Elsie blushed immediately and then backtracked in an attempt to remedy her mistake, snapping at him in her embarrassment. "I mean, it's nice of you to finally join me. Twenty…one? Minutes late I see." She gazed pointedly at the clock on the wall.

Charles fought the urge to smile. He lost, and somewhat of a wicked grin crossed his lips, which was apparently the absolute wrong reaction. She immediately puffed up and slapped his file on the table next to her.

"Dr. Carson. I am going to offer you the first piece of advice you will receive here at this establishment." She paused for effect and Charles smiled harder. He just couldn't help himself. She narrowed her eyes and steepled her long, delicate fingers in front of her as she stepped closer to him. In a grave tone she said, "As a new member of the faculty, it is in your best interest not to embarrass the tenured staff. Or simply piss us off. And, congratulations, you have managed both in the first hour of your first day." Charles understood that their earlier encounter had shaken her. Not really expecting that particular reaction from a woman of her confidence, Charles lost his smirk and cleared his throat. He was not, and would not become, an immature character in this play. Realizing that the first real piece of advice he had gotten at this "establishment" had come from the receptionist, he heeded her words and began to apologize.

"Ms. Hughes, I do not know how to begin. I am truly sorry for the uh- er- rather embarrassing circumstances in which we first met. And also, I apologize for my incredible lack of decorum in dealing with my discourteous tardiness. I am sincerely sorry." Her face showed absolutely nothing. She was completely stoic and intimidating as hell. He suddenly felt parched and a bit afraid, which almost caused him to laugh aloud. He had never felt so out of control! And all she had to do was set those fiery blue eyes on him.

"It's _Dr._ Hughes. And please, do not mention our… encounter. No need to bring it up again. Come along then, we have quite a lot to cover and now, thanks to you, we have even less time in which to do so." She snatched his file from the table and whisked past him out of the room. She smelled incredible, and it took a great amount of concentration for him to gather his wits and follow her. The receptionist smiled at him in that apologetic way once again, and he felt even more bemused by the entire situation.

She led him from the conference area into one of the long, brightly lit corridors of the university. Her heels clicked decisively on the grey marble floors. He exerted some effort in stopping himself from dwelling on their earlier encounter. This was ridiculous and he was an adult. He yelled at himself internally, and it worked, too. That was, until his eyes glanced across her perfectly round, swaying bottom. He dropped his notebook then, and she stopped abruptly and turned on her heel.

"Dr. Carson, if this type of clumsiness is part of your daily life, I suggest you either visit a doctor or find a way to fix it. At least in my presence." With that sharp reprimand, she turned away and continued down the hall. Charles just shook his head and grabbed the notebook, his eyes never leaving her hips.

An hour later, Dr. Hughes had shown Charles the campus grounds and all of the professor's quarters, and she had given him a tour of the modern science chemistry lab. It was an exceptionally well-funded, state of the art lab that all of the chemistry and biology departments used jointly. Charles was very impressed. And not only with the lab. His brain had basically refused all function that did not involve a fantasy about the woman in front of him. His thoughts were tormenting his every move, and it took all he had just to regurgitate the information she was spitting at him. He felt a bit light-headed and thought derisively that all the blood in his body had gone elsewhere. Once, she had taken him into a supply closet to show him where the more hazardous chemicals were held. He had brushed up against her and practically moaned aloud. The looks she kept shooting him told him that he wasn't keeping it together very well. If he didn't knock it off, he might be fired before the end of his very first day.

Back at his classroom she stopped and said, "Well, I believe that is everything relevant, Dr. Carson. Do you have any questions?"

Charles looked into her eyes. The words were out of his mouth before he could blink. "Yes. What are your dinner plans? I am sorry, Dr. Hughes, but I have been completely unable to take my eyes off of you this entire time. I would love to take you out sometime." He was mentally punching himself now, and the thoughts running through his head were giving him a mighty headache. He was calling himself all of the worst names he could come up with.

Her face said it all. Her cheeks flushed a deep red and she pursed her lips. She took a deep breath, and Charles prepared himself for her lashing. "I don't know what game you think you are playing here, Dr. Carson, but I will not have any part of it! You are here to teach. If you think you are going to make a fool out of me you are sorely mistaken. One more step out of line and I will report you." She turned and marched through the door letting it slam behind her. He felt as if she'd slapped him. Hell, maybe she had. His mind was so out of whack that he had to sit down for a moment. His head hit the wooden desk in seconds.

It was only later, when he woke up at the desk, that he realized someone had drugged him. The man sat in shadow at the other end of the room. When Charles was able to think again, he swallowed and said to the figure, "What do you want?" The figure chuckled, then stood and strolled towards Charles. The man stopped in a small sliver of light coming in through the window. It must have been dark out already, because everything was shadowed except for that spot. Charles looked up to see Thomas staring down at him.

"This was just a test run, Charles. You failed. It was so easy to get to you. For them it will be even easier, and much, much worse." Thomas walked the rest of the way to Charles and bent over the desk, placing his face centimeters from Charles's. "Get your shit together, Charles. Or you are done here. This is the only chance you will get. After this, I am turning you loose. Think about what you want. Now get the fuck up and control yourself." Thomas slapped Charles in the face. Charles was out of his seat and in an instant he had Thomas pinned against the wall.

"I have control, Thomas. But thanks to your stunt I might not have a job. She thinks I'm a psychopath or something. You're a fucking asshole drugging me like that. I know what they are capable of, damn it. You know I do." Charles released Thomas from his hold. Thomas spat a bit of blood onto the floor.

"One more fuck up Charles. One more. I will be in touch." Thomas left silently out of the classroom door as Charles ran his hands over his face. Holy shit, talk about a hell of a first day.

Elsie made it to her office before her hands began to shake. She wasn't sure what the hell was wrong with this Professor Carson, but he certainly shook her up.

"Knock knock! It's your favorite red head!" Beryl Patmore, Elsie's best friend and fellow professor, popped her head in Elsie's office door. Elsie smiled.

"Hello lady. How have you been today?"

"Oh I'm doing _very_ well. I heard some juicy gossip today…"

Elsie put her face in her hands and mumbled through her fingers, "It wouldn't have anything to do with me, would it?"

Beryl squealed and said, "Of course it does! That receptionist in the office, Ethel, she's quite the gossip! She told me all about you two and your orientation session with him. News travels fast around here!"

"That's wretched of her! And what does she know anyhow? We were all over the building today! And besides, he's strange if you ask me." Beryl's face fell a little, so Elsie added, "And what would he want with someone like me anyway?"

"Woman! Give yourself some credit, you gorgeous thing. He wants exactly what you think he wants!"

"Oh this is terrible! Absolutely out of the question. Dear God…"

"ELSIE! This is fantastic! Why aren't you jumping for joy woman! That man is one sexy beast. And he wants you. Grr…"

Elsie blushed deeply. "Really Beryl, sometimes I just don't know what to do with you. And he only 'wants' me because he thinks that flattery will put him back in my good graces."

"Well it would out him in _my_ good graces… and lots of other places…"

"Beryl! Do you have any shame?"

Beryl simply smiled wickedly. "No my dear, I don't believe I do. Now, are we going out tonight?"

It was their Thursday routine. "Thirsty Thursday" as Beryl liked to call it. They had one regular place, Ruby's, and John the owner/bartender had been serving them drinks since they had started their weekly tradition fifteen years before. Last week they'd had to cancel. Beryl's husband Bill had been sick with the flu. So this week, they were due for a doozy.

"Why not Ruby's? We haven't been there in a few weeks. Plus it's close. I'm not up for a long drive."

Beryl smiled. "Man got you all flustered. Ah, alright. But if he comes in looking like that…" Elsie reached across her desk and swatted at Beryl's hands. "Stop it you ridiculous woman."

Beryl laughed again and stood to leave. "Well, my dear, I will be back here in an hour to escort your fabulous self to the bar. Be ready!" Elsie waved her crazy friend away and leaned forward in her chair. Propping her elbows and resting her head on her entwined fingers, Elsie thought of the new professor's incredibly odd behavior. What he would be like as a professor worried her, but despite her professional concerns, the thought she wanted so desperately to erase from her mind kept biting at her. Dr. Charles Carson had certainly made an impression. His smell and the way his dark eyes had devoured her flashed through her mind, and she immediately stood and began shuffling her papers.

Three hours later, and a few too many drinks in, Elsie and Beryl laughed happily in a booth at Ruby's. Beryl was telling ridiculous stories of her failed romances before she met Bill, and Elsie was fascinated and a bit grateful that her dating life had been a rocking success in comparison. Beryl was such a riot, and Elsie couldn't figure out why so many people seemed to be glancing their way. It wasn't long before Elsie was telling stories, although hers were more embarrassing than funny, but at this point it didn't seem to matter. Beryl was laughing and that was good enough for Elsie.

After a few hours, the drug had worn off and Charles was feeling desperate for a drink. He felt whipped, and rather pissed that his guard had been so easily overcome. Ruby's was close to the university, and it looked friendly and welcoming compared to the bars he was accustomed to. He decided to walk, and he was thankful he did. The cool, brisk air helped clear his head. The bartender's name was John, and he looked exactly like a bartender should. He was a big man with a dark look about him. But he was friendly when Charles ordered a double scotch on the rocks. Charles liked the place right away. Ruby's was well lit, but not too bright, and it had lots of pictures of friends and families who had stopped in over the years. Charles was examining some of the older pictures hung above the bar, when he noticed a very familiar, albeit younger, face. Dr. Elsie Hughes and a bright redheaded woman posed like Charlie's Angels with John between them. The most shocking part, however, was not what they were doing, but what they were wearing. Or rather, what they were NOT wearing. Elsie's dress was so short that a few inches more and her garter would have been visible. Not only that, but there was no back to the skimpy red dress, and that also told him she wasn't wearing a bra. Holy hell, Charles thought. She was a closet bombshell. And the redhead in the picture with her, she was also quite pretty. She was wearing more clothing, but not much. Her halter-top and skirt covered a fraction more than the outfit Elsie wore. It was clear that the ladies were drunk when the picture was taken, but they certainly looked happy to be there. Charles couldn't help himself; he stood on the rung on his barstool and snatched the picture from behind the bar. John saw him and sidled over.

"What do you have there?" Charles handed John the photo, and John held it up to look at it then laughed jovially. "That's Elsie the Hell-Raiser and her sidekick Beryl the Marauder. Those two have been coming here for years. Hell of a lot of trouble they were, back in the day. Just a little loud these days…" John pointed with the photo to a booth in the corner of the bar where Elsie The Hell-Raiser and Beryl the Marauder sat, laughing riotously at some very funny joke. Charles's jaw dropped. Elsie was sloshed, and she leaned up against the side of the booth laughing hysterically. Her friend was apparently saying something so funny that Elsie couldn't open her eyes for how hard she was laughing.

Charles could not help himself. "Hey, John. Why don't you send a round for the ladies on me. And… will you just tell them I said sorry? They'll understand." John chuckled and flipped two glasses over. "It's not like they need another, but hey, they've been regulars for as long as I've owned the place. And I haven't seen them take off their skirts in years…" John finished pouring the whiskey and laughed merrily as he took them their drinks.

"…And then the strangest thing happened- he said 'I haven't got a bloody vase, the maid used it for the milk!'" Beryl snorted and spit a little on the table. Elsie was laughing equally as hard, and at that moment John sidled up to their booth, two fresh drinks in hand.

"I'm glad to see you ladies enjoying yourselves! These drinks are on that gentleman over there. He told me to say that he's sorry. Don't have too much fun girls…" And he walked away. Elsie stared at the liquor for a moment, and her head snapped up when Beryl gasped and grabbed her hand. "Oh my goodness- Elsie- look at that man! He's that sexy professor! The one you don't like!"

As drunk as she was, Elsie knew Beryl had been rather loud. Flushing deep scarlet, Elsie dared a peak over her shoulder to look at Charles Carson. He smiled and shook his head, and raised his glass to them before downing the whole thing. Elsie whipped her head around as he stood. Before she could do anything, Beryl was shouting at Charles. "Hey, hey mister! Why don't you come join us! We are a lot of fun!"

Elsie squeezed Beryl's hand. "Why woman?! That is not a good idea! I don't want to share drinks with him you idiot!" But it was too late, Dr. Carson was standing next to Elsie, and before she could help herself, she turned her head to look at him and got an eyeful of his groin. Blushing ever redder, Elsie just turned away silently as Beryl invited him to sit.

"Elsie! Move over woman and let the man sit down. He's had a rough first day, haven't you now?"

Charles was more than slightly amused at the two women. Beryl was obviously a flirt, and an adorable one at that. However, her wedding ring and the way she avoided sitting next to him let him know that she was loyal to her husband, no matter how flirtatious she might be. Elsie on the other hand wanted nothing to do with him. Her face was turned towards the wall of the booth and she was blushing to her roots. Charles smiled his best smiled and slid into the booth next to her. Elsie grabbed her drink from in front of him before he could push it her way. She made herself as small as possible and kept shooting dagger looks at Beryl.

Beryl was either oblivious or did not care, because she began to make the situation even more awkward.

"So, Dr. Carson, is that right? I hear you met my best friend in a rather… strange way this morning."

Charles laughed a bit nervously, and said "Yes, unfortunately I was quite the klutz this morning and I ran right into her. I don't think she's forgiven me yet." Charles paused and while Beryl began another round of drunken questions, he whispered quietly to Elsie, "And you probably shouldn't, because I would do it again if I had the opportunity." Elsie's head shot up so fast that Charles reacted on instinct and raised his hand to block, knocking over her glass in the process. He cursed under his breath "I'm sorry ladies, I am just cursed with clumsiness." Much to his surprise, his newest act of idiocy seemed to break Elsie's steely exterior. That or the alcohol he mused. She laughed and grabbed a napkin to mop up the whiskey. She was so different when she laughed, Charles thought to himself. Her entire face brightened and her beautiful purple-blue eyes lit up. Charles's breath caught in his throat, and before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed her face and pressed his mouth to hers. She resisted at first, but in seconds it was like she melted in his hands. Her lips formed to his, and her hands pressed against his as he gently held her face. He had no idea how long they were under, but when they finally came up for air, Beryl had disappeared. Somewhere across the bar, he heard John let out a catcall whistle and he smiled. Elsie was breathing fast and shallow, and Charles still held her face. He pressed his forehead to hers and just held her still for a few moments. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, ashamed at his reckless behavior once again. Elsie seemed to be composing herself, and she pushed his hands away. Grabbing her half empty glass of whiskey, she downed it and slapped the glass back on the table.

"I have to go, please." She said the words without looking him in the eye. Her face was redder than it had been before, and her voice shook a little. Charles silently slid from the booth, and Elsie slid past him and rushed out of the bar. He tossed a twenty down on the table, and another ten for a tip, waved at John and followed her out the doors.

She was halfway across the field when he made it outside into the cold air. She was moving quickly, but not smoothly. He guessed she'd had way too much to drink, and he didn't want to leave her ambling across the university lawn to be discovered in the morning. Cursing, he started jogging towards her. As he reached her, he heard deep racking sobs coming from her chest. She had her shoes in one hand and her coat and purse in the other. She was unsteady on her feet, and when she noticed him coming up next to her, she yelped and tripped and fell to the ground.

Charles dropped down on his knees beside her, but she was curled into a ball and still crying. "Elsie, Elsie it's just me, Charles ok? Can I help you to your car or your office? Is there someone I can call?"

Elsie sobbed to herself, but there were words he could barely make out in there with the tears. She said, "I'm all alone! There's no one. Don't bother, just leave me here to die. Pathetic, lonely. Oh God." She cried harder. Charles, always a man of action, decided enough was enough. He grabbed her then, and threw her over his shoulder. As he walked her to his truck parked at the university, she stopped crying and began asking him questions. "Where am I? What are we doing here? Are we lovers?" And then, "God I feel so sick…" Charles was at his truck, so he set her down on the tailgate just as she decided to vomit. He held her hair as she was sick, and then when she finished he helped her into the cab. She was shivering, so he pulled his jacket off and laid it over her as she slumped down onto the seat.

What was he supposed to do with her now? Suddenly, he remembered his file. He grabbed it from under the seat and pulled out her letterhead, on which she had included her home phone number. He punched the number into his phone and waited for a response. In a moment, a message came through with an address and a hyperlink to a map. Charles got his bearings, and climbed in his truck, setting off in the direction indicated by the map.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has submitted a review thus far! And to my lovely beta** **! We are going down an exciting, dangerous road with these two, unlike most of the AU Chelsie fics I have read, but I hope everyone is enjoying it so far! I had a few questions about their ages in this fic: to answer that, I imagine them in their late forties/early fifties. Probably their S1 ages on Downton, maybe a tad bit younger.**

 **Alos, as this story progress it will become more M in some chapters, but I will always provide a heads up about those chapters!**

 **So, here's chapter 3. I hope you all enjoy!**

 **Chapter 3**

The next morning, Elsie awoke with an incredibly deep, throbbing headache. Her clothes were off, and she was in nothing but her bra and panties. Stumbling out of bed, she grabbed her robe and wrapped herself with it. She made her way into the kitchen. A pot of coffee was brewed, and there was a bottle of Excedrin on the counter with a note underneath. She grabbed it hastily and began reading.

 _Elsie, thanks for the good time ;) There is a Gatorade in the refrigerator and the coffee should be ready by now. I hope you feel better. See you Monday! –Charles_

Elsie had to sit down on one of the kitchen barstools. Her head throbbed, and if she had read the note correctly, she had done more than just drink last night. She moaned aloud.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She cursed herself. Moaning again she poured a cup of coffee, grabbed the Gatorade and the Excedrin, and walked out onto her sun porch. The warm light of the afternoon spilled around the white wicker furniture and pooled in bright, welcoming spots. Elsie pulled her favorite chair out of the sun and sat down in the shadows. She felt wretched, and not just because she had a headache. She was ashamed with her behavior, and it mortified her to think of Charles Carson in her bed, seeing her recklessly drunk and wanton. She remembered nothing, not after the moment he came to their table. Suddenly, she wondered if he had drugged her drink, but then she remembered John delivering the drinks, and she shook the thought from her mind.

Her intensified literature studies course had just completed its first paper of the semester. The fifteen 20-page research documents were waiting for her at the university, so as awful as she felt, she knew she would have to be at the office in time. She stood and resigned herself to a very long, tough day.

Charles whipped open the front door of his small house and dropped his soaked shirt on the floor by his shoes. The phone was ringing, so he rushed to the kitchen just as whoever was calling gave up. He shrugged to himself and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. Fifteen minutes later, he was showered, dressed, and on his way to the university. He had left so much undone the day before. After Thomas had made his appearance, Charles had had no energy to finish unpacking or prepping for his classes. He knew that some of the advanced courses had begun already, and that his courses were set to commence on Monday. He was not about to enter a class unprepared; it was not in his nature.

He arrived at the university shortly after eight. The lot was practically empty, save a few student tags near the library. He was sitting in his truck, reading an email from the dean, when a silver Cadillac pulled in next to him. Glancing over briefly, he almost didn't recognize Elsie through the tinted windows. But the moment she recognized him, her horrified face shocked him into awareness.

Elsie could not believe her terrible luck. Of all the days and all the parking spaces and all the people that could have been next to her, it had to be Charles Carson. She gasped in utter awe at her hopeless misfortune, and stared stupidly at his truck as he did a double take in her direction.

Charles was astounded to see Elsie Hughes sitting in the vehicle next to him. Judging by the mortified look on her face, he gathered she was none too happy to see him. He knew he shouldn't have left her that note, but he couldn't help but tease her, knowing how uptight she was. Apparently, she had not taken it as a joke and had believed his ruse. Charles shook his head and resigned himself to a lifetime of making up for his idiocy to this woman. He got out of his truck and walked around to the door of her car. She was staring at her lap, refusing to make eye contact with him. So he just opened her door.

When Charles Carson opened the door of her car, the last thing Elsie expected to feel was excitement. Dread, embarrassment, fear, yes. But not the rush of adrenaline and heat that assailed her as his delicious scent whooshed into her car. Her breath caught, and before she could do anything, he reached in and pulled her out of the car.

"Damn you! Who the hell do you think you are? Get your hands off me!" Elsie's outrage rang in each word, but beneath that was a heat that made Charles's blood boil. He yanked her to a standing position and pressed his body tightly against hers on the car. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her fiercely and fully as she struggled. In moments, she had ceased her attempts to escape and relaxed in his hands. He slowly let her face go and stepped carefully away from her.

Elsie was lost in a haze of hormones. Good Lord this man could push her buttons! His lips were incredibly talented, and soon Elsie couldn't think save for his mouth on hers. The blood rushed fiercely to her ears and she was lost in a vortex of sensation. He slowly backed away, pulling his lips from hers as she gulped in air like a virginal teen. The shame hit her shortly after she caught her breath.

"What is wrong with you?" She spat at him. Charles didn't answer, but slowly ran his thumb over her full, wet bottom lip. He heard her breath catch and her eyes fluttered just enough to let him know he had gotten to her. "I think you are going to be a major distraction in my life." He whispered to her, right before he slid his lips over hers once again.

Elsie was not even angry any more. The gall of this man simply knocked her off her feet. She was not even sure what she was doing. Standing in the parking lot, her lips locked in a very hot, very involved kiss, Elsie could not seem to recall for the life of her why she should be fighting this. Her hands slid to his upper arms, and she could feel the force of his biceps straining against his cotton dress shirt. She dug her nails into his arms and he responded by burying his hands in her hair and pulling her closer.

Charles had never been so blindsided by his desire for a woman in his life. Her scent, her hips, her lips, her hair, her accent- God everything about her just drove him wild. He was rock hard and ready and about to lose control when he finally pulled away. His hands still buried in her soft auburn hair, he held her face and looked into her eyes. She searched his expression for an answer. He couldn't give her one because he certainly didn't know why he was so easily losing control. He slid his hands out of her hair and gently down her neck before he stepped away. She took in a shaky breath and carefully wiped her lips with her fingertips and then straightened her outfit. He smiled at her dainty little behaviors, and when she caught him watching her she froze, and suddenly that spark returned to her eyes and he knew he was in for it.

"Why, Dr. Carson, must you insist on doing this to me? If you want my approval, you have it. I will do whatever you want if you'll simply leave me alone and stop making a fool out of me for all the world to see."

"Anything?" Charles said facetiously. Elsie growled at him under her breath.

"I assume I already have, given the tone of that note I found this morning." Suddenly her demeanor changed, and something like shame crossed her features. "Please, I try not to ask for anything from people, but I beg you not to tell anyone about whatever happened last night." Grabbing her bag and her keys, she slammed her car door and marched briskly away without glancing behind her even once. Charles watched her walk away, and the ache he felt became even worse.

Elsie stopped just inside the doors and leaned against a wall to catch her breath. Her lips pulsed with the lingering pressure of his kiss. She was so confused as to why he would waste his time with her. She had very little pull in his department, and the only thing she could really help him with would be to put in a good word with Violet Crawley, whom Elsie happened to know already adored the man. She shook her head and made her way down the hall to her office.

Charles stood in the lot, staring at Elsie's back as she strode away. Shaking his head, he returned to his truck to grab his briefcase before following her into the building. He didn't see her when he entered the hallway, so he made his way to his own classroom, ruminating on their encounter all the way. He was officially perplexed by Ms. Elsie Hughes. It was true; it had been a long time for him. However, despite his rapid and intense reactions to her body, what troubled him were the more intimate reactions he was undergoing. When he thought of her (which had happened more often than he thought possible in 24 hours) it was with warmth and kindness that belied the fact he'd only just met her. But Charles knew that pursuing anything with her would only cause trouble, so he firmly chided himself and immediately set to work when he entered his classroom, knowing that somewhere, the man he was after was not wasting any time.

Charles had always been a good teacher. Less than four hours later, he had already finished his lesson plans for the first quarter of the semester, and he had unpacked most of the items in his boxes. He was about to call it a day when he noticed a sign on his door inviting the professors to help themselves to coffee and doughnuts in the library in honor of the beginning of the semester. He shrugged and decided to grab a pastry on the way out. Maybe, he hoped, he might even run into Elsie- he had felt terribly guilty all day and he wanted to clear some things up with her. The thought pushed him out the door a little faster.

At noon, Elsie found herself staring out of her office window for the last time and decided to call it a day. She was distracted and focused on topics certainly not associated with her students' papers. She stood and began to pack up the papers when she noticed Dr. Carson breeze past her office window and through the courtyard, most likely headed for the free doughnuts in the library. Suddenly she felt a desperate need to discover the details of the previous evening. She hurriedly dropped the papers into her bag, grabbed her keys and made for the library.

Charles could smell the delicious doughnuts before he could see them. Sitting in the counter where students would typically check books out, Charles made a beeline for the big box of fresh pastries and smiled as he secured a chocolate frosted cake doughnut with what looked like salted caramel drizzle. He was indulging in a large bite of the tasty confection when he practically choked as Elsie waltzed into the library doors. He swallowed the massive bite whole, not even tasting the decadent frosting as he stared at Elsie walking straight to him.

"Dr. Carson. I see you've found the pastries." Charles grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth. He set the doughnut down and cleared his throat. Watching the strong column of his throat as he swallowed, Elsie's formerly determined mindset abandoned her completely and she decided to depart as soon as possible. But Charles had other plans.

"Dr. Hughes. I- would you mind walking with me for a moment?" Elsie narrowed her eyes at him. She turned to the librarian, Mrs. O'Brien, and handed her a book with a smile, then turned the fiery gaze she seemed to reserve just for him back to his face. She said, "What now, are you planning to throw me down in the stacks?"

Charles couldn't help himself. He laughed aloud, and immediately Mrs. O'Brien shushed him and waved him away. Elsie smiled. Charles said, "Actually, I need to clear up some things. Do you have a minute?" Elsie gave him a wary look, and then led the way out of the library into the courtyard.

Charles followed her, more than happy with the view. She led him to the fountain at the center of the yard. The tricking water that flowed down the large fountain provided a nice camouflage to their conversation. She sat on the bench that ran the circumference of the round base. Crossing her arms and then her legs, she waited for Charles to take a seat. He sat down next to her and leaned forward, elbows on knees. Taking a second to formulate his apology, Charles then leaned back and turned to face her. Her facial expression took all of the wind from him; tears glistened in her eyes and the seemingly ever-present steel that was always in the set of her lips was replaced with a gently quivering frown. Taken aback, he reached up and gently brushed an errant tear from below her left eye. She grabbed his hand and pushed him away. "Please, can you just tell me what happened and stop prolonging the agony? What did my incredibly foolish, drunken self do this time?" She looked down at her feet.

"Absolutely nothing." Charles felt immeasurably awful at the realization that his joke had caused her so much worry. "Nothing happened. You never even tried to touch me. No kiss, nothing. You are truly a lady in every sense of the word. I am sorry that I made you feel as though you behaved otherwise." Elsie sucked in a deep breath. She whispered "Thank you" and stood to walk away. Charles grabbed her hand.

"Elsie- please wait. I know we don't know each other, but if you'd let me I would love to be your friend." She looked back at him, still holding her hand.

"I doubt that would be wise, Dr. Carson. I've known you for scarcely 24 hours and already you've seen me thoroughly intoxicated and shirtless. I see this going nowhere positive."

Fighting the urge to smile, Charles said, " Give me a chance. You won't regret it."

Elsie smiled sadly and nodded her head. Taking that as the best answer he was going to get, Charles stood without letting her hand go and pulled it up to his lips. Gently, he pressed a kiss into her palm. Elsie's eyes grew wide and afraid, and immediately she pulled away from him and dashed into the building.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Elsie Margaret Hughes! I have a bone to pick with you!" Beryl stormed into Elsie's office on Monday, the first day of the term, and slammed the door behind her. Elsie looked up calmly from her desk, deciding she would make Beryl work for whatever information she wanted this time.

"Yes?" Beryl had a tendency to be dramatic, so Elsie just waited to see if Beryl's sudden flair was about the thing Elsie was dreading discussing. It was.

"Do you know who I had lunch with today? Phyllis! She told me that you and that hunky new professor were having a delicious little téte a téte in the courtyard on Saturday! Why have I not heard about this before now? And WHY did I have to hear it from Phyllis?"

Elsie just shrugged, determined not to indulge Beryl's crazy ideas.

"It was nothing important." Beryl practically turned purple at Elsie's refusal to share.

"Also, what happened on Friday night? When I left you two, I couldn't have slipped a piece of paper between you both! And you expect me to believe that this is 'nothing important'?!"

Elsie slowly shut her laptop.

"We shagged in his truck in the field next to Ruby's."

Beryl dramatically threw a hand to her bosom and flopped into the chair facing Elsie's desk. Her face had turned a dangerous shade of red and she was having difficulty breathing. Elsie watched as Beryl calmed down enough to see the smirk on her face.

"Damn you Elspeth Hughes! You're a dirty rotten liar you are!"

Elsie crossed her arms and scowled. "I told you to stop using my full name. You know how I hate it!"

"You deserve it! Putting me on like that. Cruel is what you are. So what actually happened?"

Elsie sighed, resigned to the fact that Beryl wasn't going to give up.

"Well, as far as I can tell, I made a wicked fool of myself after you left and went traipsing 'round in the field. He graciously took me home, although I have no idea how he knew my address, and then I woke up the next day and came to work where he kindly explained what I had done."

Beryl chuckled. "Well, that's slightly more than what I was expecting. But why in the world didn't you just call me?"

Elsie stood and brushed her fingers across the top of her laptop She shrugged noncommittally and said, "I guess I didn't think it through. I was incredibly uncomfortable so I bolted out of there fast as I could… I was much farther gone than I thought."

Beryl stood and went to Elsie's side, pulling her into a hug.

"Oh dear, I never meant to make you feel like that. I just thought you two looked well suited and you did seem to be attracted to him. I'm sorry dear. Sometimes I forget about…"

Elsie pulled out of Beryl's embrace. "Yes, well, I suppose I ought to be getting on. I'm having dinner at Anna's tonight. She called me today to tell me she was fired from her position at the cinema. Bloody rotten place it was anyhow, she's good to be rid of it."

Beryl watched with a look of sadness as Elsie grabbed her purse and her jacket from the hook behind the office door.

"Elsie, you do know that you can trust yourself enough to have a relationship."

Elsie turned abruptly to Beryl with tears in her eyes.

"That's just it. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever trust myself again."

"Anna, what's this?" Elsie walked into the kitchen from the bathroom holding an empty pregnancy test box. Anna turned, and the look of horror on her face told Elsie everything she needed to know.

"Elsie I…" Anna stammered a response as Elsie sat down at the table. Anna came and sat beside her.

"Do you think less of me?" Anna twisted her apron in her hands. Elsie looked up at her and smiled gently.

"Dear girl, I'm _happy_ for you. You and John will make fine parents. Does he know yet?"

"I just took the test this morning. I actually took two, different brands. They recommend that I guess…. Anyways, they both turned out the same. I haven't seen John yet. I guess with the shock of being fired today and then all of this," Anna gestured vaguely toward the test box, then dropped her face into her hands and began to sob. "Oh Elsie, what am I going to do? I can't even hold a job, how and I supposed to be responsible for a tiny baby?"

Elsie wrapped Anna in a warm hug, rocking her slightly. "Anna, John loves you very much. You can't think he's going to let you go because of this? I would think he'd be overjoyed!" Anna sat back, wiping the tears from her face.

"But that's not what I'm worried about. I know John will take care of the baby and me but I want to be able to stand on my own. After what happened- I just never want to feel that helpless again."

Elsie looked gently on the young woman in front of her. She was all too aware of the pain and fear of losing oneself, and for Anna it had been even worse. It had been a blind date, a friend of Anna's boss. Green was his name. He and Anna had hit it off immediately, sharing a few dinners before Green had revealed himself for the monster he was. Anna had spent the better part of three years in counseling working through the horror he had put her through. When Elsie had introduced her to John, it had taken quite a long time for Anna to be comfortable with him. Anna had also told Elsie her fears about being intimate again, but was so thrilled and relieved when she realized she could overcome those fears because John was so good and kind to her. And now, so soon after their relationship had begun to blossom, Anna was expecting a child.

"Anna, my girl, talk to John. I am so sorry I broached such a sensitive subject before you'd had a chance to tell him. And don't you forget that I am always here for you. We ladies must stick together."

Anna laughed and wiped more tears from her cheeks. "Thank you. You've always been like a mother to me, and I'm not sure I've ever properly thanked you for loving me like one."

Anna reached out and pulled Elsie into a warm hug. Elsie held back the tears that threatened, tears that had come for more reasons than Elsie could admit.

The next afternoon, Elsie was teaching her intensive lit studies course when a student wearing a lab coat strode into the classroom.

Annoyed at the interruption, Elsie looked at the young man over her glasses. "May I help you?"

The young man was quite handsome and had unruly brown hair that fell in a large swoop over his forehead.

"My name's Jimmy, ma'am. Dr. Carson sent me here with a note for you, and instructions not to leave until you'd answered." He looked quote pleased with himself at the fact he was privy to some special message between the two professors. A snigger of laughter rippled through the room, and Elsie shot them all a look.

"I know you haven't all read the entire passage I assigned, so use the time wisely while I deal with this." The class delivered a collective sigh and a great rustling of pages could be heard as Elsie turned back to Jimmy.

"Well, aren't you going to read it?"

"I am, but don't look so hopeful. I'm not sharing it with you." Elsie ripped open the small envelope and pulled the paper from inside. She opened it up to Charles's neat, steady handwriting.

 _Elsie,_

 _If you will let me, I'd love to bring you lunch today. 12:30? I'll come to you. Please say yes._

 _C._

Elsie huffed at the note. "What a stubborn man!" She muttered to herself under her breath. Jimmy cleared his throat to remind her of his presence. Elsie looked up to see Jimmy smirking.

"You tell Dr. Carson that this is inappropriate use of student time!" Elsie ripped up the letter and put it back into the envelope, then handed it to Jimmy. He smiled.

"Dr. Carson said you might react like this, so he sent me with another note." Jimmy handed Elsie a second note, and she took it from him, flabbergasted at the gall it displayed.

 _Elsie,_

 _I'll be at your office at 12:30. I can't wait to have lunch with you._

 _C._

Elsie just threw her hands in the air.

"Oh for Heaven's sake." She exclaimed. She went to her podium and scribbled a quick note on the letter from Charles, replaced it inside the envelope, and handed it to Jimmy.

"Take that to Dr. Carson please. And if he requests this service from you in the future, it would be in your best interest to refuse!"

Jimmy just shook his head and chuckled to himself. He turned on his heel and left the room. Elsie turned to her students. Not a single student was reading; instead, they were all staring at her and smiling.

At precisely 12:00pm on the dot, Charles rapped lightly on the doorframe to Elsie's office. She was startled from her close reading of a student manuscript, and she looked up at him over the rim of her reading glasses. Charles chuckled a bit at her fierce expression, understanding why students had given her the nickname "Scottish Dragon." She lifted her head and sighed, flipping the pages of the manuscript closed.

"Dr. Carson."

"Hello, Dr. Hughes. What a pleasure it is to see you this fine afternoon. Would you like some lunch?" Charles extended a small tote; it contained a number of homemade dishes in pretty turquoise glass containers. Elsie shook her head in resignation and waved him in. She gestured to the chair in front of her desk, where he could only assume students would sit as they waited for her to mete out a punishment or a grade they'd been dreading. What Charles didn't know, however, was that Dr. Elsie Hughes- for all of her severity and decorum- was a soft, kind hearted woman who more often than not acted as a safe harbor for students needing guidance or a gentle word of encouragement.

Elsie remained seated in her desk chair. Charles smiled to himself when he realized she meant to keep the desk firmly between them, rather than sit on the floral settee about the size of a loveseat that occupied the front of the office near the door. He decided to give her a break, and he took the proffered chair and sat, placing the tote on the floor next to him.

"I received your note, Dr. Hughes." Elsie again flicked her steely blue gaze to his over the top of her frames, and he failed to stifle a chuckle.

"And, obviously, you did not bother to heed it."

Charles pulled the piece of paper from his breast pocket and read aloud. "Dear Dr. Carson, please note that if you show up at my door this afternoon, I will happily beat you about the head with whatever is handy. -Dr. Hughes"

Charles folded the note up carefully and placed it back into his pocket. Elsie just rolled her eyes, then rapidly packed up the manuscripts scattered across her desk.

She placed them in a drawer, then reached out her hands and wiggled her fingers at Charles. "Well, come on, I haven't got all afternoon. Let's get on with it." Charles smiled and lifted the dishes from the tote, opening each and setting the lid aside.

"My my, what an impressive spread Dr. Carson. Lobster salad, croissants, tiramisu, and fresh strawberries. I am impressed." Charles puffed out his chest.

"I'll have you know, Dr. Hughes," and when he said her name in his deep, throaty baritone he really drew out the s, and Elsie shivered a bit at the sound, "I am an accomplished culinary artist." Elsie smirked. She reached over and plucked a dish from the desk, looking at the bottom.

"So am I to assume your initials are B.M. then? I'm going to throttle that woman!" Charles grabbed the dish back and set it down.

"We will not speak of this moment! Beryl swore me to secrecy and that is one frightening woman! I should fear for my life if she finds out I gave up the gig."

Elsie sinks back into her chair and laughs. "Goodness me, I feel like I've got an entire tribe conspiring against me. I give in! I'll enjoy this damn lunch, and then I can report back to Beryl, tell her you're perfectly lovely but that there is nothing between us. Hand me that fork."

Charles holds out the fork, but won't let it go when Elsie grabs it. "You, Elsie Hughes, will enjoy lunch with me, but not because you feel you have to. Because we are both intelligent, interesting people who enjoy rich conversation." He slowly slides his hand around her hand as it holds the fork, and his gaze never leaves her face as his large fingers begin stroking her soft wrist. Elsie gets stuck staring into his dark eyes, and suddenly realizes she's been gazing at his face for far too long. She clears her throat and gently twists her hand out of his grip. He lets her hand go, sliding his fingers along her skin as she pulls away.

"Dr. Carson, I will enjoy this lunch, but I will not be making this a regular thing. I will not be a part of anyone's game." Charles was shocked. Game?

"What game!? Elsie, I don't say things I don't mean. I don't _do_ things I don't mean." Elsie just speared a strawberry on the fork and raised it to her mouth, popping it between her lips and narrowing her eyes at him. He swallowed because he had paid too much attention to how her lips caressed the strawberry, but he wasn't entirely surprised when she said, "Dr. Carson, I am no one's fool. Keep your hands to yourself, or to someone else- I could really care less- but keep them off of me. Now, hand me a croissant."

Charles was bemused, but no less entranced by this woman. He truly believed she would beat him about the head if she felt so inclined, so he handed her a croissant and watched as she daintily picked it apart. "Are you going to eat lunch?" She asked innocently, looking at him with a blank expression. Charles couldn't help himself, he laughed aloud.

"Just you wait, Elsie Hughes, I'll prove just how serious I really am."

"Dr. Carson, you will be the death of me."

Charles couldn't have known then just how true those words would be.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Oh my goodness! the outpouring of support and enjoyment for this story has left me thoroughly humbled! Thank you to everyone who has submitted a review! I feel so grateful to each one of you and I will be working on responding to everyone here in the next few days. Also, This chapter marks the beginning of the M-rated content. There is discussion of rape and other trigger topics. Most of the subsequent chapter from here on will be M, but I will be sure to provide a warning for anything that might be cause for caution.**

 **In the present, please enjoy!**

 **Chapter 5**

 _He pressed her hard against the wall, hands fumbling against her skirt and bruising her sides. His breath was burning her ear, and she whimpered as she felt him rip the material of her skirt and pull it down around her hips. He bared her just enough to allow him access. He dropped his trousers around his knees and pressed his large hand into the back of her head, forcing her to turn her head or have her nose broken._

 _"_ _Please, please don't-"_

 _He took a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, biting her ear then slamming her cheek into the wall. "Shut it, whore. This is what you get for staying out too late."_

 _Elsie felt the warmth on her cheek and didn't know whether it was tears or blood. She was desperate, so she brought her elbow back and slammed it into his chest as hard as she was able. It knocked the breath from his body, and he let go of her for an instant. She scrambled away, desperate to get to the front door._

 _But it was not to be._

 _He was on her in an instant, and Elsie knew that this time it would be worse than ever before._

Elsie awoke with a start, and sat up in bed looking around the room. Her heart was racing, her hair matted to her temples from the sweat. She felt something tickling her cheek, and she lifted her hand to find she'd been crying in her sleep. She wiped her cheeks and got out of bed. Her dog, a large German Shepherd named Willa, followed her silently into the bathroom. She nosed Elsie's nightgown gently, whining a little at her distress. Elsie reached down and gently stroked Willa's large, soft ears then stood and splashed water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror.

 _He's gone. He won't come looking for you now. You're safe._

But somewhere deep inside, no matter how many times she repeated her mantra, Elsie Hughes knew he would be back.

Charles Carson had never met someone he hated more than this man.

"I don't think I've ever met someone I've taken a liking to this quickly! You've got yourself a job!" Joe Burns said jovially as he slapped Charles sloppily on the back. Charles laughed aloud and threw back the remainder of his scotch. Joe Burns took a cigar from his jacket and held it out, gesturing for Charles to light it for him. Charles pulled a small silver lighter from his pocket and lit the tobacco leaves.

"Well, I have to say I am glad to hear it. I won't let you down."

Joe suddenly became very still, cigar hanging from the side of his mouth. He took the cigar out slowly, looked into Charles's eyes and said, "No, I don't think you will. Not if you know what's good for you. And I think you do." Joe gestured to a man clad in dark clothing near the door of the room. The man opened another door to the far left, and two men similarly dressed brought three women in. All were wearing next to nothing, and clearly they had been hired for the evening. Joe Burns smiled, and Charles resisted the urge to clench his fists in hatred. Charles hid the boiling anger beneath his stoic façade. A façade he had perfected through many years of this work. He had earned the nickname "The Butler" from his fellow agents because of his renowned ability to remain calm and composed no matter what the mark threw his way. He was a legend, and he had earned it. And in that moment, Charles knew he would need every ounce of composure he had developed through the years if he was ever going to get through this alive.

"Pick one." Charles looked at Joe Burns, disgusted by the very thought of what these women would have to endure tonight. He smiled back at Joe Burns.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'd rather not. Suffering from a bit of the dose*. You know how it is." Joe Burns shook his head at Charles.

"You're a dog, man. Well, that leaves more for me." He turned his rapacious gaze back to the women, so Charles cleared his throat to get his attention.

"Friday then?"

Never moving his eyes from the women, Joe Burns replied, "Friday. Don't be late."

Charles nodded curtly and left as fast as he was able. He made it into the dining room and looked around furtively. When he could see no one in sight, he quickly reached out and pulled the fire alarm on the wall. The sirens began screeching and as he held his lighter to one of the sprinklers, it began dousing the room with water. Charles slipped out the front door before anyone could see him. He knew they would never know it was him- he'd canvassed the place weeks ago. There were no cameras at Joe Burns' restaurant, and Charles was grateful for that as he watched through binoculars from his car as the three women rushed out the side door and into a car. Joe Burns did not follow. Charles smiled to himself and pulled away silently.

It takes Elsie hours to fall back asleep, and when she finally does her alarm rattles her out of her uneasy slumber.

"Willa girl, it's going to be a long day." Willa just wagged her tail and licked Elsie's hand as she reached out to pat her head. Elsie stepped into the shower and turned the water on hot, making every effort to scald the unpleasant (horrific) residue of her nightmare from her mind. She finishes her shower, somewhat reinvigorated by the smell of her mint shampoo and lemony vanilla body wash. She wrapped her hair in a fresh towel. Just as she grabbed her robe, someone knocked on her door and Willa rushed to the kitchen barking loudly. Elsie cursed under her breath and quickly threw her robe on.

"Damn salesman." Elsie tied up her plum coloured robe as she padded on bare feet through her kitchen. Irritated, she whipped open her door, fully intending to give the person on the other side an earful of her Scottish temper. She stopped abruptly when she realized it was Charles Carson at her doorstep.

Charles felt his smile before he consciously agreed to it. The Scottish Dragon stood before him, her wet hair wrapped in a lavender towel, her plum robe clinging to her curves as droplets of water on her neck glistened in the morning light. Charles fought a groan that bubbled up from his chest. As his eyes traveled back to her face, a deep scarlet blush caressed her cheeks and he suddenly felt parched standing before her.

Of course it was Charles Carson. He always appeared at the most inopportune and embarrassing moments for her, so she wasn't even surprised. What did startle her, however, was the lascivious manner in which his dark eyes caressed her body from calf to cheek. The heat rose to her face and the spiky words she had waiting abandoned her. They stood like that, staring silently at one another for an interminable length of time before Willa started the conversation for them. She pushed out from behind Elsie's legs and shoved her large snout between Charles's legs, rudely breaking the spell that had overcome them both.

"Willa!" Elsie bent forward to grab Willa's collar, forgetting for a moment she was clad only in her robe. The front gaped, and for an instant, Charles was looking right at her bare chest.

"Oh! Oh my goodness!" Elsie grabbed the front of her robe and pulled it together, but it was too late. Charles turned his face away, partially to alleviate her embarrassment and partially to save himself from revealing his immature level of attraction for her. He clenched his jaw and sucked in a deep breath. The Butler, he thought derisively. Ha. All the enemies he had thwarted and a small, fiery Scottish woman could completely undo his starched suit of poise.

"I'm so sorry to come at a bad time…" Charles offered her an olive branch, hoping to introduce some sanity into their brief exchange. She was still blushing when he returned his gaze to her face. However, her face had now formed itself into the expression he knew so well: annoyance.

"Oh, I suppose you are. Ha, bloody unlikely. What is it now?" Her terse response made him smile again.

"I just wanted to see if you'd like to join me for breakfast this morning."

Elsie threw her hands in the air. "Good Lord, you are persistent aren't you?" She walked away then, leaving the door open behind her. Charles did the only decent thing; he took it as an invitation and followed her and Willa into the house.

She had disappeared into the bedroom. He waited patiently by her door and took in the small house as he waited. It looked cozy and warm in the bright morning light. All of her furniture was large and fluffy, most of it mismatched. It all looked secondhand, but the slightly tattered nature of the grey-blue and white furniture was barely noticeable under the plethora of bright blue, yellow and white throw pillows. He counted at least ten from where he stood in the small entryway. The living room was to his right, the open and airy kitchen to his left. The white cupboards reflected the comforting feel of the living room, and he smiled when he realized the curtains on the large kitchen window matched the pillows. Clearly, she had made them all, and the thought of her- feisty, hot tempered, and wickedly quick witted- sitting at a sewing machine making curtains warmed his heart. She returned to the kitchen- fully dressed- just then, pulling him from his thoughts.

"What are you all agog for?" Charles adored her Scottish brogue. He smiled at her.

"Just… I didn't expect you to be the sewing type." Elsie whipped her gaze to his.

"How do you know I sew?"

Waking around the counter that separated the little entryway from the kitchen, he gestured to the curtains. "The curtains, they match the pillows. If you aren't the type to buy new furniture, I highly doubt you'd spend the money to buy matching throw pillows and curtains."

Elsie shook her head. "Charles Carson, what are you doing in my home when I expressly told you I was done with this?" She gestured up and down his body. Realizing how she had sounded, she felt her cheeks begin to burn.

"Done with this?" Charles gestured to himself. "But Elsie Hughes, you haven't even had the pleasure of using this in the first place." Elsie turned her burning face to look at him. The utter and complete mischief reflected in his eyes was her undoing.

"Oh to hell with it all. Fine. Have it your way. I have bacon, eggs, toast and some jam."

Charles and Elsie arrived at the university moments apart, and much to her chagrin, Elsie noticed Beryl staring at her from beside her Range Rover.

Charles sidled up to Elsie and bent to whisper deliciously in her ear. "You have some explaining to do, I'd reckon." Elsie felt a delicious burning sensation ripple through her veins, and in that moment she could have cared less if Beryl was going to interrogate her. But Elsie was a woman of determination and steadiness. She took in a breath of air and stepped away from Charles, smiling politely to him.

"Breakfast was nice. Next time you'll have to do the cooking." Charles almost dropped the bag he was holding.

"Next time?" Elsie smiled and turned, walking into the university, her blood thudding through her veins, reminding her that the risk she was taking would be dangerous to more than just her heart.

 ***** ** _dose_** **is a slang term for Gonorrhoea. Unpleasant, right? Btw, Charles does not actually have it ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Bloody stupid piece of-"

"Elsie Hughes!" Elsie whipped her head up as Beryl walked through the door of her office. She banged the side of the small printer. When it made a terrible crunching sound, she gave up on ever making it do her bidding and threw herself down in her desk chair.

"Sorry. It's just this damn thing- never wants to work! A bloody waste of money."

"I won't say I told you so…"

"Oh bugger off." Elsie said with a smile. "What brings you here?"

Beryl smiled sweetly and sat down on the floral settee. "Oh nothing in particular. Can't a good, trusted, dear friend just stop in for-"

"Oh! For Heaven's sake, you know that being coy was never one of your strengths." Elsie stood and walked around the desk, shutting the office door as she did so.

"Whatever do you mean?" Beryl questioned innocently.

"That Cheshire grin on your face gives you away don't you know?" Beryl grinned even bigger.

"Tell me everything!" Elsie was surprised at how long Beryl had held out before asking her about the day she'd shown up to the university with Charles. It was Friday, and if Elsie was correct in her counting, it had been since Wednesday.

"Beryl! I'm impressed. You've held out two entire days."

"You're rather cheeky today. Is there a reason behind that?"

Elsie rolled her eyes. "No. There is absolutely no reason for my cheek, other than the fact that you are rather a pain in the rear end. Nothing happened. We had breakfast, we chatted. And then we came to work. Like friends. Just friends."

Beryl pursed her lips. "Well. If you don't want to share with me, I'll just have to go ask Charles!" Elsie whipped her gaze to Beryl's and glared. "Don't you dare, woman. Knowing Charles, he'll make up some ridiculous story."

"It's _Charles_ is it now? Well…" Elsie rolled her eyes.

"Don't deny me the only scandalous enjoyment I've got in my life."

"It's not scandalous! For the last bloo-"

Beryl smiled wickedly and stood, heading for the door. "Look, I've got to go now, to get ready for the in-service and all, but are we still meeting tonight? 8 o'clock?"

"Oh! I completely forgot! But yes, I'll be there." Beryl left the door open behind her, and just as Elsie was gathering up her things to leave for the in-service, Charles appeared at her door.

"Hello." He said, quietly in his deep voice. Elsie shivered internally.

"Hello," she replied, more softly than she had intended. She cleared her throat. "Are you headed to the in-service?"

"Actually, that's why I'm here. Dean Crawley excused me as I have a prior engagement, but if there's anything of real importance would you mind taking notes for me?" Elsie just stared at him for a moment.

"Uh- um- oh yes. Of course. I don't mind at all." She smiled at him, and thinking that was the end of their conversation, she returned to packing her bag.

Charles silently let himself into the office and shut the door behind him. Elsie looked up when she heard the door click, and Charles was across the room before she could protest.

"Elsie, I've missed you. Two days is too long." And with that he gently pressed his warm lips to hers, sliding his large hands up and into her hair, rubbing his thumbs along her temples and softly caressing her ear lobes. She found herself sighing into his kiss, relaxing into his gentle touches and reverent attentions. She set her hands tentatively on his hips, and before long she was pulling his body closer to hers as he deepened the kiss. He slid his right hand down her neck, splaying his fingers out across the soft skin between her neck and collarbone. Soon, his lips followed, and Elsie could do nothing but roll her head sideways to allow him access. The warmth of his mouth on her skin drove a small moan from her lips, and startled her back to reality.

"Charles!" Charles laughed, his lips still pressed to her skin. When Elsie refused to relax, He lifted his head and pressed one last, sweet kiss to her lips.

"Can I see you this weekend?"

"Charles I-"

"Elsie, look at it this way. You'll never know if you really don't like me until you get to know me. So just spend some time with me. If we have nothing in common, then I promise I'll let it be. But just give me a chance."

Elsie bit her bottom lip, as she was wont to do when uncertain. She looked up, her eyes meeting his, and she knew she would regret it if she didn't at least give him a chance.

"Okay. But I want to _do_ something. Not just go out for endless dinners like so many dates seem to turn out."

Charles smirked, and suddenly Elsie felt a twinge of regret at suggesting other activities.

"Oh, don't worry, I have a very active imagination. I'll see you Sunday, 11am?"

"See you then." She smiled and shook her head as Charles let himself out of her office, whistling with a huge smile spreading across his face.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

"Charlie! My man! Good to see you." The Butler cringed inwardly at the gregarious display.

"Grigg." Charles regarded the portly, ruddy-faced man in front of him. He had known Charles Grigg a long time, had been his partner when he first started working as an agent. At one time, he and Grigg had been close, the "Charming Charlies" they had been dubbed. But that had all changed when Grigg sold Charles out to one of their targets to save his own skin. Charles had never forgiven the betrayal, and the bullet hole in his right side served as a reminder if he should ever start forgetting what Grigg was capable of.

"What do you want?" Charles spat at Grigg through the open window of his truck.

Grigg laughed. "What a way to greet an old friend."

"I mean it, Grigg. Tell me what you want or get the hell out of my way."

"Charlie, Charlie. You didn't think you were the only one after Joe Burns, did you?"

Charles closed his eyes to contain his anger. When he spoke, he was dead calm.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the same reason you are, old friend! We both want Burns, except the people that hired me are _also_ wanted by the people that hired you. May the best man win!" Grigg mock saluted to Charles as he walked backwards, heading for the warehouse before them.

Charles slammed his fist into the steering wheel. Of all the complications he had planned for, Grigg had never even crossed his mind. He composed himself and got out of the truck, tucking his .45 into his ankle holster.

Charles entered the cavernous steel warehouse with heightened apprehension. Grigg was a loose cannon, and Charles was not looking forward to navigating the next few hours.

"Ah, Charles. You've met Mr. Grigg then?" Joe Burns walked over to Charles, Grigg in tow, smiling smugly.

"Yes, he introduced himself in the lot."

"Well, good. Now we can get to work."

Charles had been an agent since he was 18. He was recruited very young, and most of his life had been exciting, dangerous, and thrilling- everything a young man could want. But as he followed Grigg and Burns to the table holding the type of weaponry that took thousands of lives each year, for the first time he could remember the deep sadness of the business overtook him. The waste of life, the endless death; he suddenly longed for the peace he felt with Elsie. So startled he was by his own thoughts, he shook his head to remove them. Grigg gave him a strange look, but Charles just ignored the man and looked up at Burns.

Burns stopped behind the table and looked up at the dozen or so men in the room.

"This, men, is the finest in modern weaponry that the Russians have to offer. Mr. Carson here is our newest broker. He will be negotiating with the Iranians. Mr. Grigg will be accompanying him to ensure that my merchandise stays intact, won't you Mr. Grigg?"

"Right you are sir." Charles looked at Grigg, realizing that the game he was playing just became vastly more dangerous than he could have imagined.

Burns began speaking again. "Tonight, Mr.'s Grigg and Carson will be meeting with the representatives from the Iranian contingency to provide a demonstration for their benefit. If all goes well- and it will- the exchange will take place a month from now. The rest of you- I do not want any fuck ups. Men that cannot keep their mouths shut and ears closed will suffer."

Two burly men dragged another man into the center of the room. He had been beaten and his arms were bound. They released him and he flew forward, he face landing in the dirt on the floor. He struggled for a moment, trying desperately to right himself.

"Denison here got pissed in a pub and told a pretty little whore all about his big boy job, running guns for his bossman." Joe Burns stopped three feet from the man, looking down at him. Denison's head was turned at an odd angle as he attempted to look up at Burns. "And we can't have that, can we?" Burns whispered into the silent space. He pulled out a 9mm and shot Denison point-blank in the face.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

Elsie was completely ready to be finished with the damn in-service. She liked and respected Dr. Molesely, but sometimes the man rattled on and on until she could barely remember where she was for the boredom. It was already 7:30 and it seemed as though he would never finish. Beryl leaned over to whisper to Elsie.

"He's a twitchy fellow, in't he?"

Elsie snorted into her tea and consequently received quite a few strange looks from her colleagues. Finally, Molesely wrapped up his presentation and the room began to clap immediately, as if afraid he might return to the podium and resume his interminable speech. Everyone stood and began filing out.

Elsie glanced over at Molesely and noticed that Phyllis Baxter was making doe eyes at him. Beryl caught Elsie's eye. "Oh, you mark my word, before the end of term those two will be an item! Why just look at the way he's stuttering, poor fool." Elsie shook her head and exited the room.

"Beryl, I've got to run home quick- I need to let Willa out and change. I'll meet you at Ruby's by 8?"

Beryl waved as she exited the opposite way. "See you then!"

Willa was waiting expectantly at the door for Elsie when she finally made it home, so she gave the dog a good ear scratching and let her out for a run in the yard, silently thanking William for helping her train the dog so well. She never worried about her running off, and she was easily the most loyal companion Elsie could have asked for.

As she changed, Elsie ruminated on the few moments she'd spent with Charles earlier in the day. He treated her as if she was already a part of his life, a love he'd already dedicated himself to. The thought of that much commitment gave her the chills, and Elsie brushed away the troubling thoughts as she let Willa in the house. Willa was taking quite a long time to get to the door, and Elsie began to worry. She flipped on the porch light and saw the large dog limping slowly into the light.

"Willa girl, what happened?" Elsie rushed out to the dog, who sat as Elsie approached her. She was holding her right front paw up, and when Elsie reached her she saw that it was dripping blood.

"Poor girl, let's get you inside." Elsie half lifted Willa, helping her to walk as best she could. The dog was much too big for her to lift alone, weighing 75 pounds. She was the largest pup in her litter, and the vet remarked often at how large the dog was for being a female. Yet another reason Elsie loved her so much.

Once inside, Elsie could see exactly what had happened. Willa had somehow sliced her foot open; she had one large gash that ran across the central pad of her foot, so deep that it was steadily dripping blood and would clearly need stitches, and another higher up her leg that would also need to be stitched.

"Down girl. Stay." She issued the commands to Willa to ensure the dog wouldn't get blood everywhere or injure herself further and left her to nurse her paw while she dialed the vet. The on-call veterinarian could see Willa in an hour. Elsie called Beryl up to let her know she wouldn't make it to Ruby's.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

Three hours later, Willa was curled up in her large dog bed by the window in Elsie's bedroom sporting fresh bandages and stiches, and Elsie was treating her bloodstained clothes in her bathroom sink. There was a faint knock at the door and Elsie jumped when she heard Willa issue a deep but sleepy bark from the bedroom. The poor dog was still dozy from the pain medication, so Elsie dropped her shirt on the sink and went to peek out the window in her bedroom to see who was at her door.

"Charles?" Elsie hurried to the door. She opened it to find Charles standing there with a black eye, as well as a swollen hand and bandaged arm.

"What in the world happened to you?!" She exclaimed. Charles smiled and shrugged.

"May I come in?" Elsie stood aside and let him in the house. She sat him down at the kitchen island and grabbed a bag of frozen peas for his hand.

"Thank you. Sorry to drop by, unannounced and looking like a street fighter."

" _Why_ do you look like a street fighter is what I want to know?" Elsie crossed her arms and leaned against the counter.

Charles laughed. "I got in a fight." He offered. Elsie scoffed.

"Please! I can see that for myself. But if you're not going to tell me that's fine. You can march your secrets and your black eye right back out that door."

Charles looked at Elsie for a moment, her hand on her hip, staring at him seriously. He was surprised to see the blunt fear in her eyes, and he stood to take her hands gently in his. He knew she would think him insane for getting in a fight, but he couldn't tell her the truth- at least not the entire truth. So, he opted for the part he felt was safe.

"Elsie, I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I'm not- I just…"

Charles stroked her knuckles with his thumbs. "These silly cuts and bruises are the result of a ridiculous altercation with a man at a bar. He slapped his girlfriend in the parking lot, so I decked him. He came back with more vigor than I was expecting. I know it's silly and quite childish but—"

Elsie slid her hands into his hair at that moment and gently pressed her lips to his, kissing him soundly but carefully. When she pulled away, Charles was smiling.

"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that, Dr. Hughes." Elsie stepped away just then, slowly removing her hands from his and turning towards the sink.

"Tea?" She asked. Elsie busied herself getting the kettle on the stove and setting out two mugs.

"Thank you Elsie. I didn't mean to trouble you with this, but I just needed to see you. I didn't want to wait for Sunday."

Elsie didn't turn back to him, she just stared at the kettle of water. So softly that Charles almost didn't hear it, Elsie whispered, "I'm not afraid of you." Charles wasn't certain he had heard her correctly, but before he could ask, Elsie spoke to him.

"Your nose is bleeding again. My bathroom is right through there if you need some tissues. Although I assume you already know where it is." Elsie smiled a bit at her comment, knowing full well that Charles was familiar with the layout of her home after their encounter at Ruby's. Charles lifted his hand to his face and felt the blood drip. He hurried into the bathroom to get something to staunch the blood flow, all the while cursing his stupidity. He wasn't a young man anymore, and fights like the one he'd been in tonight were getting harder and harder to heal from. But despite the pain he was in, he would have slugged the man a thousand times over, Iranian or not. No man treated a woman that way in front of Charles.

Charles entered the bathroom and flipped on the light. The first thing he noticed was the bloody shirt sitting on Elsie's sink. There was blood all down the front of the shirt and he could clearly tell she had already tried to remove some of it. Completely forgetting his nose, he grabbed the shirt and burst back out into the kitchen.

"Elsie! Did someone hurt you? Are you all right? What is all of this blood from?"

Startled, Elsie turned with the kettle in her hand to see Charles holding up her bloody button down shirt. The look of pure anger on his face prompted her to reply immediately.

"That's from Willa. She sliced her foot open earlier. I'm perfectly fine." Hearing Elsie's slightly stunned response, Charles realized then how he must look, trembling with anger at whomever had hurt Elsie. He lowered the hand holding the shirt and dropped it on the floor. He went to her then and wrapped her in a warm hug. She softened in his arms and whispered, "I thought you were going to rip someone apart."

Charles gave a deep belly laugh at her statement, stepping back from her. "I would have. I thought someone had attacked you, all of that blood. Is Willa ok?"

Elsie poured tea for them and handed Charles a mug. "She's knocked out from the medication they gave her, but she's all stitched up. She'll be just fine in a week or two. Here." Elsie grabbed a clean dishtowel from a drawer near the sink and walked to Charles, gently wiping a little bit of blood from above his lip. "I think it stopped bleeding on it's own."

Charles just looked at her, his eyes devouring her beautiful face. She had large, deep blue eyes and the most beautiful lips. Her cheeks were high and full, reddening a little at his relentless gaze. There was something about her features; it was as though they longed to be joyful. When she smiled it was always with her whole heart it seemed. However, he sensed that it was sometimes difficult for her to express her natural happiness. She had something weighing on her that held her down, something that stopped her joyfulness from spreading across her lovely face.

"If you keep looking at me like that I'm going to have to check the mirror to see if my hair's tidy!" She said lightly, stepping back to the other side of the island.

"Get away with you," he replied. "You're lovely, always." Elsie put her hand on her face, cupping her cheek in an attempt to hide her flush of pleasure at his words. Charles felt his groin tighten as he gazed at her.

He knew it was time to leave, to go home before he lost all common sense and tried to ravage her right there on the kitchen island. He still wasn't sure what had brought him to her door in the first place, but he knew he needed to leave now before he made an ass of himself.

He finished his tea quickly, silently watching her as she sipped her tea and tidied up the kitchen. He stood a few moments later, but hesitated to approach her.

"Are we still on for Sunday? I know I imposed on you tonight but I-"

"Charles. Pick me up at 11. What should I wear?" She smiled sweetly at him. Before he knew it, he had crossed the small kitchen and drawn her into his arms. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip and then kissed her, telling her everything he wanted to do with her with only the slide of his lips against hers. She moaned into his mouth, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer, pressing her body against his, and pushing him backwards into the island. She surprised him even further by sliding her hands down and grabbing his bottom, digging her nails into his backside and yanking his groin into hers. His sanity almost completely gone, he somehow managed to grasp a mere thread of common sense as he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away a bit.

Her lust clouded eyes looked up at him in confusion, and he had to consciously work to control his breathing.

"Elsie- Elsie," Charles took a deep breath. "I don't want to push you this fast. If we do this now you'll regret it. And I don't want to be a regret, I want to be here for much longer than that." Elsie stepped back, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Thank you." She said, quietly with a slight quaver to her voice. A single tear slid down her cheek just then, and Charles reached out to brush it away.

"Did I do something wrong? I never meant to offend you…"

Elsie laughed a little at his comment. "I assure you, the very last thing that I am in this moment is offended." She smiled at him then, one of her full-to-bursting, joyful smiles that he longed for. "You're a good man, Charles Carson. You keep proving it to me in ways you don't even know. Thank you."

Charles bent and brushed a delicate kiss to her lips. She smiled at him again. "Sunday then." She said. He smiled back at her.

"Sunday. And to answer your question, wear something comfortable, something you can get dirty." Elsie raised her eyebrows, shaking her head at him as he smirked and let himself out the front door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

On Sunday, Elsie woke around 7am. She surprised herself with her excitement, and as she made herself breakfast she found she kept humming a song as she cut herself some fruit. By 10, she was showered and ready, dressed in some old cargo pants and a light blue polo shirt she didn't particularly care for. It was tighter than she liked, but today she smiled to herself a bit when she saw how it hugged her gentle curves.

Not sure what to do with herself for an hour, Elsie let Willa out and walked with her around the yard as she had been doing for the past few days, hoping she would find whatever it was that Willa had cut herself on. Willa was more subdued than usual, which was no surprise considering she was still hindered by her heavily bandaged leg, but it also meant that she never wandered far enough to help Elsie's search. After walking around and gently playing fetch with Willa for a bit, Elsie checked her watch. 10:25. Suddenly, Elsie noticed that Willa had stopped moving and was staring into the woods, gently growling. Elsie frowned and scratched Willa's head then started for the house. When she heard a crash in the woods behind her, Elsie whipped her head around and watched as Willa rushed forward with a loud bark. There were many times Elsie was thankful for the seclusion of her home, but moments like this reminded her just how vulnerable she still was. Turning quickly, she heard a strange ticking sound and saw movement in the trees directly in front of her. Willa was crouched down on the ground now, growling deeply and baring her teeth. Elsie slipped behind the dog and quickly backed towards the house. Willa stayed where she was, snarling at the trees. Suddenly, Charles's truck pulled into the driveway and he jumped out, noticing Elsie's tension and the angry dog immediately.

"Elsie! Are you ok?" Charles rushed over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her up and down. Seeing she was physically unharmed, carefully ventured into the woods. Elsie grabbed Willa by the collar and dragged her into the house, shutting her inside and stepping out onto the porch. Charles was coming back out of the trees holding his .45 he had pulled form his ankle hoslter. Ignoring the question on her face, he went to her, pushing her back into the house.

"Charles! I'm so glad you're early!" She pulled him close, pressing her lips to his in a bruising expression of relief. Charles carefully set his gun on the counter while he kissed her back just as fervently and then broke off the kiss to pull her into his embrace.

"What happened?" He asked, alarmed by the entire situation.

Elsie was shaking slightly, but she said, "I was just waking Willa around, looking for whatever had cut her when suddenly something crashed in the trees. I thought it was just a bird or something until Willa started to growl, and something was moving toward us when you pulled in. Did you find anything?"

Charles ran his hand down his face. "No, but I sent something- or someone- running off. Could you see the size of whatever it was?" Elsie shook her head.

Elsie looked at Charles's gun. "I'm so glad you came to my rescue, but why do you have a gun?"

Charles, much to Elsie's surprise, smiled at her. "Well, our date has been spoiled a bit, but let's just say we are about to have an adventure." Elsie raised her eyebrows.

"Well then, why wait? I'm feeling adventurous today." It was Charles who raised his eyebrows this time.

"Milday." Charles offered her his arms. Elsie shyly slid her arm around his. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever the day would bring.

After an hour on the road, Charles pulled into a parking lot at a large white brick, unmarked building that looked altogether abandoned. Elsie glanced around skeptically, then turned to Charles and waited for an explanation.

Charles smiled widely, then got out of the truck and went around to her side. He opened her door and helped her down from the truck seat, taking her hand and leading her silently to the building. He liked that Elsie wasn't questioning him; he enjoyed spending time with her because she was observant and only used words when she felt they would improve on the silence. He unlocked the door and gestured for Elsie to step inside with him. She looked at him warily, and for a moment he thought that she might just turn and walk away. But after wavering for a moment, she held her hand out to him again and they walked in the door together.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright light, but once they had Elsie was shocked into silence. The "abandoned" building was actually a very nice, clean and bright… gun range? Elsie was thoroughly confused at his point, and Charles turned to offer her an explanation.

"This place belongs to a friend of mine. He used to work with… agents for lack of a better word. This is where they practiced handling weapons. Today, I'm going to teach you how to shoot." Charles internally braced himself for fallout, wondering if maybe he hadn't pushed Elsie too far. This outing was, to Elsie's knowledge, completely illegal. But, he was pleasantly surprised when she smiled widely and simply said, "Let's do it."

Charles resisted the urge to pull her in for a heated kiss. He settled for a gentle squeeze of her hand and led her to the counter behind which were a variety of handguns, all locked up inside a metal cage.

"Pick your weapon my dear." Charles smiled and gestured to the guns. Elsie rubbed her hands together.

"Ohhh this is like Christmas, isn't it!" Charles couldn't help himself, he laughed aloud at her exuberance. He never would have expected her to be this enthusiastic about the outing for the day. But, as had been her way thus far, Elsie continued to surprise him.

Elsie looked at the handguns before her and finally pointed at one.

"A .40 cal *****? Hm. Women usually try smaller guns first." Elsie smiled at his remark.

"Well, I like the look of that one. I want to give it a try." Charles chuckled again and unlocked the cage, pulling the gun down from its hook. Relocking the cage and grabbing a box of ammunition from another locked cabinet, Charles stepped from behind the counter and led Elsie to a door at the back of the room. When they stepped into the next room, Elsie could hear a change in the sound. Charles noted her expression and pointed to the walls.

"Soundproof. This is a secure location. They don't use it anymore, but it's got the best money can buy in security so no one knew what it was."

"But if it's no longer in use, then why is it still stocked with weapons?" Not much got past Elsie, and Charles was continually impressed with her observational skills.

"He keeps it stocked for me. I taught his son once upon a time. Long story short we became good friends and now he lets me use this place whenever I want. It's a hobby of sorts."

Elsie knew there was much more to that story than he was sharing, but she decided not to push him just yet. She realized what they were doing was illegal in England, but somehow she knew she could trust Charles so she just took the ear protection he offered and slipped them over her ears. The thought of being bad made her feel giddier than she was comfortable admitting.

Charles took her by the shoulders and spun her around, directing her into a shooting lane. Elsie smiled to herself and enjoyed the warmth of his chest on her back. She pushed the ear covers down and listened to him explain the process.

"This is the magazine, the ammunition goes in like this," he pushed a bullet down hard on the spring-loaded opening of the magazine and slid it into the slot. He followed suit with another bullet, using his thumb to press the first bullet down a bit. Then he handed her the magazine and let her try. She struggled a bit but eventually filled the magazine to capacity. Charles smiled. "Well done. You made it look easy. I must be an exceptional teacher." Elsie snorted in response, laughing at the indignant look on his face.

"Oh, yes of course sir. Excellent tutelage. Now what?"

Charles picked up the mag and slapped it hard into his palm. "Do this so that the backside of the bullet is firmly seated in its place inside the magazine. It helps eliminate any possible misfires. Alright, make sure the safety is on," Charles pointed it out and Elsie clicked it to safe, "now insert the mag and push it until you hear it click." Elsie followed his instructions. When the magazine was appropriately inserted, she looked to him again.

"Ok, see this?" He pointed to the top of the gun. Elsie nodded. "This is called the slide. You have to pull it back to insert the initial bullet into the chamber." Elsie pulled it back, slightly shakily, as the gun was rather resistant to her efforts. But, she got the bullet into place on her first try and Charles beamed at her. "Ok, now never point it sideways or in any direction but down the lane. See that target there? It's ten yards away." Elsie giggled a little.

"That seems rather close, doesn't it?" She asked innocently. But Charles was all business now.

"For a beginner it's a good place to start. And besides, most things you'd shoot with a handgun aren't going to be much father away than that." Suddenly, Elsie sobered up. That was, until Charles wrapped his giant self around her to steady the gun in her hands, helping her set the center dot of the sights between the two outer dots as she pointed it at the target. He slid his hands down her arms, much more contact than was necessary, she thought. Then he wrapped his large hand around hers as she held the gun and set his chin on her right shoulder. He smelled absolutely delicious, she thought, and she closed her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts. Charles said softly into her ear, "Once you have it aimed, take the safety off." Elsie slid her thumb up and clicked the safety down, making the gun fire-ready. Charles moved and pressed his body against hers a bit more. Elsie could feel him pressing into her backside, and with an involuntary clench of her hand she pulled the trigger and the gun went off. Charles reacted immediately, flipping the safety and removing the gun from her hands.

"I- I'm so sorry I-"

Charles looked shaken. Then he smiled. "No, don't worry about it. It was me, I should have told you not to put your finger on the trigger until you were ready to fire. Want to go again?" Elsie pushed away the thought that she certainly wanted to go again, but it had nothing to do with shooting a gun. This time, Charles remained a few feet back from her. Elsie smiled smugly, aimed the barrel, set the sights, flipped the safety, and pulled the trigger. And then she pulled it again. And again, over and over until she had emptied the magazine. When she was done, Charles just looked at her with a bit of astonishment. She stared at him as she flipped the safety back on, dropped the mag from the gun, and pressed the button to bring the target in. When it stopped right in front of them, Charles could hardly believe his eyes. Every single shot had gone through the center of the target, aside from that first one she had released by surprise. He grabbed the thick orange paper and looked at it in disbelief. When his eyes returned to hers, they were dancing with mischief.

"Either this is some bloody fantastic beginners luck or-"

"Or I've shot a gun before." Elsie smiled but offered no further explanation. Charles gaped at her for a moment. This woman was beautiful, deeply intelligent, funny, and now he found she was handy with a gun to boot. He could hardly believe his luck.

"How?" He asked. She shrugged.

"I have friends in the States. I spent a few years there and this was something we tried for fun. I just happened to be quite good at it." She smirked, loving the look of astonishment in his face.

"You are one dangerous woman Elsie Hughes." Charles smiled and pulled her in for a kiss.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

Joe Burns was an angry man, that was nothing new. Richard Carlisle had seen him choke a man to death over a card game and put a pool cue through another man's eye for lying to him. But, in the twenty odd years he had known Burns, he had never once seen him waste a perfectly good cigar in his anger.

Burns sat silently, stock still and fuming in his leather chair. Sitting on the large metal desk in front of him were a dozen photos. The curls of smoke from his cigar wrapped around a picture he was holding of a lovely woman, somewhere in her late forties or early fifties, who was cupping the cheek of Charles Carson. In at least half of the other photos, the woman was with him, smiling disgustingly at Charles.

As Carlisle watched Burns look through the photos he had just delivered him, the fine Cuban cigar crumbled into small fragments as Burns clenched his fist. The still-burning head of the cigar dropped, lit side down, onto a photo of Charles' face. As it burned through the black-and-white photograph, Burns uttered one word, "Elisabeth."

 ***a .40 caliber handgun s often just referred to as a ".40" in similar fashion to the way Charles's .45 caliber is referred to as a ".45". I actually own a .40, it is easily my favorite handgun and my weapon of choice haha. I felt like Elsie would chose something with more balls to it than a small gun, so I had her pick the .40 for that reason. Plus, she would know that the smaller the gun, the worse it kicks and therefore the more likely it is to cause injury. Elsie is one smart woman.**

 **A/N:** **I am taking some liberties here with the gun laws in the UK. I couldn't find anything specifically that related to the laws regarding gun ranges, so I made the one in this chapter secret/private so I would hopefully avoid making any mistakes as far as laws went. Charles has his own gun, of course, as he is an active agent. However, revealing this to Elsie puts him at some risk of being discovered, but no worries we will answer all of those questions in the future ;) If anyone has any input, feel free to PM or review! Also, if I made any blaring mistakes please forgive me I have not had this chapter beta'd.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: First of all, please let me apologize for the absolutely ridiculous amount of time it has taken me to post this! This chapter didn't want to be written, but I finally pinned it down. It's not very long, which I sincerely apologize for considering the time since my last post. But I think I will have the next chapter complete very soon.**

 **I also want to thank those of you that sent me messages encouraging me to keep going, you know who you are! It meant the world to me to get those and they reminded me that I actually have people that like reading my story!**

 **Finally, in the spirit of a good mystery, I put a bit of a... secret tidbit in this chapter. Hopefully it will be easy enough to decode! Best of luck ;)**

 **Anyhow, without further ado, here is chapter 8.**

 **Chapter 8**

After their time at the range, in which Elsie had continued to blow Charles away with her marksmanship skills, they went back to the truck and started off in the opposite direction of the way they had come. At that moment, something dawned on Elsie.

"You told me to wear something I could get dirty… That wasn't a particularly filthy activity," Charles raised his eyebrows at the word 'filthy' and Elsie ignored him, "so what else do you have planned?" _Ch_ arles smirked at her.

"If I told you that would ruin the surprise. But I will say this- after your performance at the range I think you'll really enjoy our next adventure…"

Elsie just shook her head and smiled. She reflected for a moment on how easily they had fallen into this relaxed, familiar banter. She was surprised to find that, for the first time in so very long, she felt no apprehension whatsoever at a man's intentions. Somewhere inside she knew Charles was deeply good- a true gentleman in every sense of the word and she basked in the warmth of that thought as he drove on.

A short while later, Charles slowed down and turned onto a well-worn dirt track that led into the woods. Intrigued, Elsie sat forward and put her hands on the dash, looking ahead to see where they were going.

"Charles, you know so many secret places. I'm beginning to wonder if you're 007." Charles smiled at her joke, slightly fearful at the realization of how close she was to the truth. Before he had to formulate a response, they reached their destination.

"Paintball?!" Elsie shrieked, slightly out of fear and slightly from excitement. She stared at the course in front of her. It ran through the forest in no particular order. There were many different versions of barricades, some dirt mounds, some boards placed between trees, some logs that had been cut and stacked, and she could see paintball splashes over every surface. It looked to be quite difficult terrain. Charles snorted in laughter at her high-pitched exclamation.

"Paintball. But not just any pai _n_ tball. This is ultimate survival paintball." With a wicked wiggle of his eyebrows, Charles got out of the truck and went around to Elsie's side to open her door for her.

"Charles, I'm all for excitement, but I don't know about th _i_ s. Doesn't paintball, well, rather hurt?"

Charles said, "It does, but the goal is to not get shot in the first place. And because I want to be sure you were safe, I brought you some armor." With that, Charles pulled some paintball gear from a bin in the bed of the truck. It was brand _ne_ w, and exactly her size. How he hand known she was uncertain, but she was thankful nonetheless. When he didn't pull any gear for himself, Elsie spoke up. "Where is your armor?"

"I don't have any. I'm tough." Elsie was annoyed, and she almost tossed her vest and leg gear back into the bin. But, she thought better of it and realized paintball bruises would be difficult to explain to her students and fellow professors. Sucking up her pride, she narrowed her eyes at him as she donned her gear. He smiled as she put the items on.

"Ok, here's a gun for you, and one for me. There are stashes of paintballs all around the area. Part of the thrill is trying to find a new stash before you run out or _get_ hit. You have enough paintballs to run, but you'll need to find more. The rules are simple: no face shots, no crotch shots, and you have to keep moving. You cannot stay in one place longer than a minute. There's a buzzer that goes every 60 seconds to let you know it's time to move. Ready?" Elsie swallowed and nodded, a thrill running through her veins. Cha _r_ les walked over to a box that was affixed to a tree and opened it up. He turned a dial to set their time.

"GO!" Charl _e_ s yelled, and they both set off at _a_ run. Elsie sidelined him hard, and he ripped over a root on the forest floor. She cackled gleefully as she ran away, and she heard him curse behind her. "What was that woman?!" Elsie dashed behind a tree and shouted, "There's no rule against it!" Charles picked himself up and growled. "I'm coming for you!"

Elsie laughed again, already having much more fun than she expected. She taunted back, "You wish!" and then _d_ isappeared into the trees.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

An hour later, winded and thoroughly bruised, Charles and Elsie sat on the tailgate of the truck sharing some sandwiches he had packed for them. Elsie reached for the pretzels Charles was holding, and he immediatel _y_ relinquished them, a look of mock fear on his face.

"Oh stop it." She said.

"No, no way. You're a crazy-vicious mad woman. I'm right and truly terrified." Elsie slapped his shoulder. She had won the match, fair and square. Charles had never played the game against a woman, and truth be told she had shaken his confidence a bit. Playing her was so different from matching wits with a man. She thought differently, she was more cunning and sharper, and she almost seemed to anticipate his moves before he knew where he was headed. She had only a _f_ ew paintball splotches on her vest and pants, while he was a veritable rainbow of color. He'd only had to refill his ammo once because he could never get a shot at her, while she had exhausted at least three of the caches. Needless to say, he thought, she had impressed him.

He stopped eating his sandwich and watched her for a moment. She was sweaty, her auburn hair sticking to her temples, and her face was flushed from the energetic activity. She took a long drink of water, and as he watched a few droplets escape her lips and trail down her neck, mixing with the bright blue paint that was sprinkled on the column _o_ f her throat. Charles had it. He dropped his sandwich on the tailgate and stood abruptly. Elsie was wiping her lips on her sleeve when he grabbed her face, hungrily pressing his lips to hers. She hesitated for a moment from the shock, and then she responded with a frenzy of intensity.

Elsie's head was spinning. Charles had su _r_ prised her with such an interesting and fun day, and now he was ravaging her mouth with his oh-so-talented lips. She responded with fervor, running her tongue gently over his bottom lip, nibbling it and then sucking away the pain. His tongue was in her mouth, and she took him by surprise when she wrapped her lips around it and sucked it hard, eliciting a deep groan from his chest. She felt light-headed, and as he buried his hands in her hair, she wrapped her legs around his knees and scooted herself forward, making a valiant attempt to press her aching center to his groin. He broke the kiss then, still gently holding her face. He placed his forehead on hers and they both struggled to breathe normally. Elsie loosened her legs, and he dropped his hands. She almost whimpered at the loss of his warmth. Before she could protest, however, he wrapped her gently in his arms, simply hugging her and holding her close. She buried her face in his neck and clung to him, suddenly inundated with a plethora of feelings she was not ready or willing to examine.

"We should go." She said hoarsely. Charles nodded, still holding her. "Willa will need her bandage changed." Charles pulled away and just looked at her. Elsie began to feel self-conscious.

"Today was by far the best date I've ever had, thank you." She offered, hoping he would say something. He smiled.

"You are by far the most interesting and beautiful woman I have ever had the privilege of taking on a date, Elsie Hughes. Thank you." Elsie blushed and hopped off of the tailgate. They packed up their picnic, put away their gear, and got into the truck. The ride home was relatively quiet, and Charles wondered for a moment if he had done something to push her away. But before he could finish the thought, Elsie reached over and grasped his hand, twining her fingers with his. He smiled and pulled her soft fingers up to his mouth and laid a gentle kiss onto her knuckles.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

Once they arrived back at Elsie's house, she invited him inside for a drink. It was later in the day, and after the intense activities of the morning she felt almost exhausted. She knew she still had coursework to look over before classes resumed the next day, so she turned to Charles intending to beg off the evening to catch up with everything. However, her plans were thwarted when she turned and walked smack into Charles' bare chest. Her hands were flat against his pecs, her palms pressing against his nipples. She squeaked with surprise and jerked her hands away, just as Charles stepped back. The entire encounter had taken less than ten seconds, but Elsie felt as though she could play every single moment in slow motion through her mind. Her face must have reflected that thought because Charles looked at her and his eyes became heavy. Elsie stopped breathing for a moment, but caught herself and stepped back.

"Today was wonderful." She said softly, smiling up at him. He bent and laced a gentle kiss to her lips.

"It was wonderful because I had such engaging and lovely company." He smiled back at her.

"So, what happened to your shirt?" Elsie teased him. He had the decency to look at her sheepishly.

"Well," he started, "I was going to sit down," he gestured to the cushy white bar stools she had at her kitchen island, "but then I realized I still have a lot of wet paint on my shirt. So **…** " Elsie's eyes immediately fell to his _pa_ nts, searching for wet paint there. Embarrassed at her rather bold perusal, Elsie swiftly turned and started looking for her tumblers and some scotch. She could hear Charles chuckle behind her.

"Oh, you stop it." She scolded with a smirk on her face. Charles said, "Don't worry, I already checked my pants and sadly they are dry." Elsie just rolled her eye _s_ at him as she set the tumbler of _s_ cotch down in front of him.

"Shall we s _i_ t on the porch?" Elsie suggested. They made their way _o_ utside and Charles shrugged back into his shirt as they sat dow _n_ on her wicker furniture.

"Pity." Elsie teased as she took a s _i_ p of her dri _n_ k. Charles _t_ urned a pensive gaze to her.

"Elsie, do you trust me?" Warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the liquor.

"Yes." Sh _e_ whispered, barely audible. Charles smiled and lea _n_ ed back into hi _s_ chair. "Why do you ask?" Sh _e_ added, quietly. Charles reached out and took her h _and_ in his. "Because I've not felt this way about someone in more years than I can remember. And I don't want to be a temporary piece of your life. That sounds serious, and it is. And I believe everything starts with trust. I trust you. More than you could believe."

Elsie brushed a tear from her eye and sat her glass down on the porc _ **h**_ railing. She turned back t _ **o**_ him and placed herself carefully in his lap, then pressed her lips to his forehead before sinking fully into his s _ **t**_ rong embrace.

So? who has it figured out? Who is EXCITED? ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**HELLO LOVLIES! So, lately I have received a few messages requesting that I keep going with this and not give up. I am INCREDIBLY flattered that people still think about this enough to message me and request more haha! You know who you are and I thank you for the encouragement. I am awful at updating, so I would like to sincerely apologize for the wait here. But I want to thank everyone that is still sticking with me! This go-round I actually had a beta, and I want to give a huge s/o to CSotA for going through this with a fine-tooth comb and helping make it so much better! Now, some housekeeping: squicks in here include discussion of rape, child loss, and murder. Also, this chapter is a hard M. And I hate to say it, but this will probably be the late true M chapter in this fic! In addition, this version of the chapter that has earned the M rating is a LIMITED TIME OFFFER! I will be editing this down to a K+ before April 7th. SO read it while you can folks! I love you all for sticking with me! Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 9**

"Elsie!"

Beryl.

Elsie groaned aloud and dropped her face into her hands. It was Tuesday, and she had successfully avoided Beryl's interrogation all day prior. She knew it was too good to be true.

"Yes, Mother?" Elsie lifted her face to see her tiny red-headed friend bop into the room with palpable joy.

"I see the dragoness has not had her morning java. You're welcome." Beryl sat a large cup of coffee on the desk and slid it towards Elsie. It smelled heavenly.

"Oh Beryl, I take back my grumpiness. Bless you." Elsie took a sip and groaned aloud. Triple shot hazelnut white mocha latte with whip. Her guilty pleasure.

"Beryl, I realize that you are plying me with coffee in order to get details of my date."

"Good. Then this should be easy as we are on the same page. Spill please. And not the coffee. That wasn't cheap, you know."

Elsie sighed in mock irritation and relaxed back into her chair. It actually felt wonderful to have someone she trusted to share her giddiness with. She thought she might burst from it all sooner or later. She told Beryl all about the range and paintball. Beryl squealed in delight in all the right places. But Elsie knew there was something her friend was holding back.

"Ok, out with it."

"Out with what? I am very happy you had such a lovely date."

"Beryl, do not patronize me. I have not consumed enough coffee for that, even if this is delicious. There's something you want to say; I can see it. So just say it."

Beryl leaned forward in her chair and set her coffee cup on the desk.

"Elsie love, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you are enjoying your time with Charles. It's about damn time you let a man appreciate you the way you deserve. But the look I see in your eyes when you talk about him- it's more than that, isn't it? If it is, then I want you to know I believe Charles is a truly good man. But I don't want you to rush into anything that you'll regret later."

Elsie took a slow sip of her coffee, relishing in the sweetness and warmth of it while she considered her answer.

"Have you ever seen _The Bridges of Madison County_?" Elsie looked pensively at Beryl.

"That flick with sex-on-legs Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep?"

Elsie shook her head in laughter.

"Yes, that one. There's this line in it, Robert is telling Francesca of his love for her, the depth and breadth of it that makes it so incredibly real to him- like nothing he has ever felt before. He says something to the effect of 'This kind of certainty comes but once in a lifetime.' I finally understand that line, Beryl."

Beryl gulped audibly, and then sat her coffee down with a shaking hand.

Elsie lifted her eyes and looked Beryl directly in the face. Beryl's mouth was held in an "o" of shock.

Elsie immediately regretted her utterly melodramatic statement and couldn't stop herself from snorting out a very unladylike laugh. Beryl's face immediately crunched into a pout.

"Elspeth Hughes, are you putting one over on me right now, because this is not a laughing matter!" Beryl was so serious Elsie had no choice but to stop laughing.

"Beryl, he's wonderful. Beyond interesting, kind, handsome, intelligent, respectful- he's… I feel safe with him."

At her statement, Beryl couldn't help but notice Elsie's eyes cloud over. There were moments like this that Beryl knew Elsie had more to her story than she had ever shared, but Beryl didn't pry. Sometimes being a true friend meant choosing to care for someone without knowing the profound secrets of their lives because they were worth more than whatever sadness they concealed.

"Oh my dear. I am so happy for you. So deeply happy."

Elsie couldn't help the tears that welled in her eyes. She looked at Beryl again and noticed she had become misty-eyed as well.

"Oh look at the sentimental pair of us! All weepy in our old age!" Beryl exclaimed, the two of them laughing.

From the office door Elsie could see groups of students begin to shuffle into the hall. Class commenced in less than ten minutes. Elsie and Beryl hugged before Beryl tottered off down the hall.

Back in her classroom, Elsie began her lecture in a slightly new way. Invigorated by her happiness, her students looked at her, puzzled and slightly afraid as she left her podium and flipped off the projector she had planned to use for the day. She stopped in the front of the hall, her hands loosely clasped together in front of her, and she did something she hadn't done in a long time. She smiled wholeheartedly.

There were titters, little whispers she could hear flying around the room. She cleared her throat and began the lesson.

"Everyone please stand, leave your things."

The class stood, apprehensive at her abrupt change of teaching style. The normally stoic, stern Dr. Hughes was human? The students stared at her as she began to walk back and forth in front of the rows.

"With a show of hands, how many of you know another person in this classroom?"

About 70% of the students raised their hands.

"Alright, and of that group that just raised their hands, how many of you know someone in here well enough to order them a coffee exactly how they like it?"

All but maybe five of the hands dropped, and Elsie smirked.

"Today will be a simple lecture. The novelist Khaled Hosseini said, ' _People find meaning and redemption in the most unusual human connections._ ' William James once wrote, ' _We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected in the deep._ ' And yet another author we know, Albert Schweitzer said, ' _We are all so much together, but we are all dying of loneliness.'_ And then, ' _I can't think of you and myself apart. You and I are the same to me._ ' Leo Tolstoy.

"Life," she paused, turning to stop at the center of the classroom, "is about making connections. I think E.M. Forster said it best: ' _Only connect._ '" She paused again. She had their full attention now.

"I want each of you to write down your favorite coffee beverage. If you don't drink coffee, then tea. If you don't drink tea, then what the hell are you doing in England?"

That got quite a few genuine laughs from the rows, and she smiled again. "Write it down the way you'd order it every time if you never had to worry about money or calories or time. Take that paper and trade it with someone. Then trade twice more. Then- " The class was staring intently at her. "- find the person who loves that triple shot non-fat mocha soy latte with extra whip. It might take the entire class to find the right person, but the goal isn't to be the first one to find your person. The goal is to…" She opened her arms and let them finish the sentence.

"Connect!" They all shouted at her simultaneously.

She laughed. "Exactly! And then, of course, I'll need a 5,000 word essay on what this exercise did for you. Along with literary references and citations."

Loud groans rippled through the room.

"Bonus points to the person who is brave enough to find out my favorite coffee. You have the class period." Elsie clapped her hands and they began shuffling around, excited for the unusual exercise.

She turned to leave the class to it, only to find Charles leaning against the door to her office, his smile melting her knees. She dazzled him with a smile of her own, shooing him into her office so as not to attract the attention of her entire class.

"Hello." He said quietly as she shut the office door behind her. He took her hands in his large paws and brushed his thumbs across her knuckles.

She pulled him into an embrace and reached up, burying her hands in his unruly, thick grey hair. He looked at her as though she was stitching his heart back together; she could sense he was in pain, but there was also an overwhelming feeling of completeness as the pieces laced into place. She was holding her breath and,as he searched her eyes for reciprocation, he saw the undulating warmth emanating from her gaze. He bent forward and captured her lips in a sweet, slow kiss. She hummed her pleasure against his lips and smiled into the kiss.

"Hello." She whispered back as she broke away gently. She rested her forehead against his chest and breathed in his scent.

"So what was happening in there? New lesson plans?" He wrapped her into his embrace even more.

"Yes. I was ... inspired. Sometimes Beryl's teasing is good for me. But only sometimes."

"Can I take you out tonight?" He asked.

Elsie whispered her answer into his neck, "Yes." He rocked her gently as they stood together in her office. She turned her face and relaxed into his embrace.

Charles breathed her soothing smell in and looked down at her cheek resting on his chest, her eyes closed.

Elsie smiled and Charles knew, in that simple moment, that he was dangerously close to being completely in love with this woman. He would end it soon. He knew he had to. It would kill him, but he could feel how things had begun to change between them, and he feared what might happen if someone found out about her. He couldn't live with himself if anything happened to her.

But, he thought- not just yet.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

 _He held her softly in the low light of the dance floor. Her face was buried in his neck and she took a deep breath, inhaling his smell that she loved so much. He ran his fingers gently down her back, drawing soft lines from her neck to her hips. It felt unbelievably comforting, and she felt herself relax even more deeply into his arms. The music was sweet and calm, and she could feel something stirring in her heart. He was so gentle, something so refreshing and addicting to her._

Lately, Elsie pondered as her eyes drifted open in the soft morning light, her dreams had vacillated between the violent memories of her past and the new, strangely wonderful moments she was spending with Charles. The dream she had just woken up from was, she could only assume, a recollection of the date they'd shared the evening before.

On Thursday evening, Charles picked Elsie up at 7pm, dressed to the nines in his finest suit and polished dress shoes. He was actually nervous, and the way he adjusted the silver-plated cufflinks had made Elsie smile as she put her lipstick into her purse. "I'm ready." He had opened all of the doors for her, pulled out her chair, casually ordered an expensive and delicious wine at dinner, and was overall an exceptionally charming dinner date.

And then there was the dancing. He'd surprised her by pulling her out onto the dance floor and waltzing her on air. She could have sworn there were women gaping at them all over the room. But she hadn't cared. It had felt so delightful and exhilarating being in his arms, knowing how much he wanted her there. He had danced away with her heart, she thought, hating the cliché but feeling the truth of it each time he spun her back into his embrace. Charles had been sweet, gentle, intelligent, thoughtful, and most of all, he had looked at Elsie as though she'd hung the moon. She was beginning to think she remembered putting it there every time she was with him.

When the evening ended, Elsie found herself torn. She had wanted desperately for him to stay, to come inside and be in her personal space, to prove to her that he was real and invested. However, another(more realistic) part of her mind warned her of the dangers of trusting him.

At her door, she had turned and bid him goodnight. He'd smiled and lifted her hand to his lips, gently brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

She wished she had exquisite words to describe her feelings from the evening, but instead of looking for any she said what she needed to say with a deep, sensual kiss to his lips.

And then, for the millionth time - but maybe, she thought, for the last time - she'd gone to bed alone.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

There were times when he looked at her, sitting across from him at a table, when he glanced at her from across the room, or when her eyes met his as she felt his gaze gracing her face, that he felt an incredible pull he'd never experienced before. He was painfully aware of what this meant for his job, for the work he had been sent here to do. Every day he breathed in the danger that threatened everything his life had been for up to this point, and every day was another lost to her beauty, her kindness, her love.

He was becoming distracted, and he knew it. The entire operation had been turned on its head during his last meeting with Burns.

Charles had been sitting in his truck, gently tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the tempo of the waltz he'd shared with Elsie the night before. He was lost in thought, reliving the feel of the silken skin of her bare back against his hand as he flowed with her across the dance floor.

He was just about to dip his daydream Elsie when a gunshot rang out in the small shack across the road from where he has parked, hidden in the trees. He was out of the truck and couched along the ground, gun out and ready for anything by the time the second shot rang. He slinked across the road in the darkness, moving silently and swiftly for a man of his size. _Just like a butler might move through a house_ , he thought derisively as he slid into the shadows of the shack.

He sidled along the wall of the shabby wooden building until he reached a hole in the thin wood. Risking a glance inside, Charles could see Joe Burns standing above two men lying prone in pools of blood at his feet. One of the men was clearly Middle Eastern, and Charles groaned inwardly at the realization of what had just happened. He stood and pushed open the door to the shack, taking in the entire scene before him. Joe Burns held a 9mm at his side, smiling down at the bodies before him. One of Joe's thugs had another man bound at his side, his face a bloody mess. Charles looked at Joe.

"What? I've had a better offer."

Charles felt boiling anger seize him. He remembered himself seconds before he raised his gun to Burns.

Burns had seen the slight twitch of Charles's wrist, and his eyebrows shot up as he raised the 9mm to Charles' face.

"Do we have a problem, Charles?" He pulled the hammer back on the gun. Charles carefully set his .45 on the dirt floor.

"No. But I don't really appreciate walking into this. Why didn't you tell me plans had changed?" Charles refused to put his hands in the air, but he did his best to look calm. Burns lowered his gun.

"Carlisle." Burns called the name. From behind a stall situated in the rear left corner of the shack, Richard Carlisle emerged from the shadows.

 _September 2013_

" _What do you mean, she's dead?" Charles gasped in disbelief. Thomas, in a rare expression of empathy, pulled a chair out for Charles and he collapsed into it._

" _It was Richard Carlisle, Charles. He knew more than we thought. He leaked her cover to Burns, who killed her that night. We didn't even know her cover was blown until we discovered her body the next day, floating in the river."_

 _Charles felt he was going to be sick. He'd known Carlisle was venomous, but he'd never imagined the man would take things this far._

" _How did she die?" Charles asked, coldly preparing himself for the facts._

" _Burns raped her. Then he slit her throat." Charles slammed his fist into the table, cracking the wood and breaking at least two of his fingers. He hardly noticed._

 _The real Thomas emerged then. "Alice knew what she was getting into when she took the assignment, Charles. That's the long and short of it."_

 _Charles looked up at him. "Doesn't life matter to you? Isn't there anything in this world that touches you? You cold bastard." Charles ran his hand down his face._

" _I don't have that luxury, Charles. And you don't either, not if you want to get out of this alive."_

" _I hope you never lose someone that means something to you. I think if you ever allowed yourself to feel anything, it would kill you."_

 _With that, Charles left the room._

 _Thomas stood, still and silent in the near darkness. He took a shuddering breath and sobbed quietly into his hands._

Charles stared at Carlisle, retaining his stoic butler-like mask despite the cacophony of emotions raging through him at the sight of a man he considered the worst of humankind.

"Charles. Mr. Burns here has told me so much about you. I do hope we can be friends." Carlisle purred in his oily voice, smiling devilishly.

Charles bit the inside of his cheek to keep from spewing his hatred out loud, and the salty, metallic tang of his blood cleared his head enough for him to respond.

"I don't need any friends. I need to know what you're planning on doing now."

Carlisle sauntered forward, pulling on a pair of fine black leather gloves.

"Mr. Burns, may I?" Carlisle deferred to Burns with a flick of his wrist. Burns nodded and pulled a white rag out to wipe the blood spatter from his hands.

"Mr. Burns and I have come to an understanding. I was able to bring to light some issues he has been seeking to resolve. In exchange, he has offered me the contract that our friends here," Carlisle gestured to the bodies, "had previously laid claim to."

Charles knew there was something he had missed, but he played along. "What could you offer Burns that is worth more than the money he was guaranteed with their contract?"

When Carlisle turned to walk around the bodies, Charles took the opportunity to stoop and retrieve his gun from the floor. He placed it in his waistband at his back.

Carlisle turned to face Charles dramatically. "That, Mr. Carson, if for Mr. Burns to share when and if he chooses. In the meantime, we have new directions for you."

Charles knew he was not going to like what they had to say. "Look, I'm not doing anything unless I know I'm still getting paid what Burns offered me in the first place. This isn't the way I like to do things." Charles looked down at the men's bodies, bloody and lifeless.

Burns stuffed the handkerchief back in his lapel pocket. "Charles, old chap. You'll do whatever it is we tell you to do. Unless of course you'd like to join our friends here."

"Mr. Burns, while I respect your ability to frighten people, you do not frighten me. I am here to work; not to kill people, not to clean up a mess. I take care of the business end of things. If you don't want me to do what you hired me for, then cut me loose." Burns was completely unreadable, and Charles had no idea if he would explode.

"Very well. Carlisle, please share our plans with Mr. Carson."

Burns leant in to Charles and said in his ear, "Never, ever disrespect me like that again. Next time, I will kill you slowly … and painfully."

After Carlisle had filled him in, Charles left the shack feeling both exhausted and wired. He was sick of this game, this violent and secretive life he'd led for far too long. Eight years undercover was far more than enough, and each day he spent with Elsie just made his wish for it all to be over that much stronger.

He had listened to Carlisle detail a setup that would put the weapons into the hands of men far more dangerous than Burns. Charles knew the deal was headed south; he knew that one wrong move could get him killed, and he knew that, even if he didn't do anything wrong, the likelihood of getting out alive was slim at best. He was in the worst place he could be: stuck between a psychopath, a sociopath, and a violent group of men that would do anything in their power to advance their bloody goals.

His next meeting with Thomas couldn't come soon enough.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

"Hey! Haven't seen you hens in ages! Happy to have you back."

John smiled at Elsie and Beryl as they sat down at the bar. He had their usual drinks sat before them almost immediately, with a big smile lighting his face. His unusually cheery demeanor led Elsie to believe Anna had shared her news with him.

"So, what's new with you ladies?" John tossed a white bar towel over his shoulder and leaned towards them on the bar. There was a glint from a ring on his left hand, and Elsie gasped when she realized what had happened.

"You got married!" Elsie stood on the bar stool and leaned over the counter, engulfing John in a friendly hug.

Beryl choked on her drink. "What?! What am I missing here? Married? John!"

John, mid laugh, turned and grasped Beryl's hand. A rare but genuine smile lit his features, making him look ten years younger.

"Anna and I, we've tied the knot. We wanted to keep it a quiet affair, no fuss. So we went to the courthouse and then had a nice little weekend away."

"Why, you sly devil!" Beryl exclaimed. She patted his hands clasped in hers. "Congratulations sir, I am very happy for you."

John looked at Elsie, who had tears in her eyes. He smiled and turned back to Beryl. "And," he began, "we are expecting."

Beryl's squeal of delight caused at least a few heads to turn their way. Elsie and John had a good laugh at her histrionics. Beryl shouted to the entire bar, "Drinks on me, in honor of this wonderful chap!" Then she looked panicked for moment and grabbed John's arm as the bar cheered. "Cheap, cheap drinks John. Cheap!" He laughed and left to serve his patrons.

"Well, that was quite generous of you!" Elsie said, settling back into her seat.

"Yes, well, my kids are grown and I can afford to celebrate good news once in a while, and John is a good man. I don't mind my money going to him. And besides, it's really going to support their little family!"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. Anna hadn't told John yet and-"

"Oh don't you fret, I understand. Anna's the quiet sort, she trusts you. She doesn't know me nearly as well, and you two have always had a special bond. I'm just thrilled her luck is turning for the better. "

"As am I."

Beryl noticed that look on Elsie's face again, the one that made Beryl think maybe Anna had more in common with Elsie than a love of books.

Beryl slid her empty glass toward John and smirked as he came to fill it again. She smiled. "In answer to your earlier question, my life is same old, but Elsie here, she's on fire! She's been seeing that new professor, Charles Carson."

John smiled softly and chuckled a bit. Elsie was suddenly very warm and she removed her jacket.

"I'm happy for you, Els. It's nice to see you glow like that." John slid another tumbler of liquor her way and she threw it back happily.

"Thank you." Elsie mouthed to John as he walked away. He nodded his head and smiled at her.

Beryl smirked at Elsie and grabbed her hand. "C'mon, let's dance."

Elsie laughed, feeling the warmth of the alcohol as she followed Beryl to the tiny dance floor.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

Charles knew it was Beryl and Elsie's night out, but he needed to see her. He needed to be in her calming, loving presence. He pulled into Ruby's, parking next to Elsie's car. He made his way inside, the bar packed on a Friday night. He got inside, making his way to the bar to see John. He liked the man and, as he walked over, Charles noticed the glint of a shiny new wedding band. He smiled as John greeted him.

"Congratulations, chap." Charles gestured to the ring.

John smiled back. "Thank you. I am a very lucky man. But I'd say you know how that feels." John followed Charles' gaze where he had found Elsie swaying on the dance floor, slightly flushed and laughing.

Charles never took his eyes from Elsie as he answered John. " Yes, Yes I do." She was utterly flawless in his eyes.

Elsie was dancing like a fool with Beryl, and for the first time in so many years she felt carefree and weightless. Whether it had anything to do with Charles she wasn't ready to admit it, but she did know his presence in her life signaled that she finally trusted herself again. It was a blissful feeling.

Beryl pulled Elsie into a spin as the song ended, and they fell into a loose hug simply enjoying the fun they were having. Elsie looked up to see Charles watching her from the edge of the dance floor with a look on his face that took her breath away. He was smiling, just a bit at the corners of his mouth. His hair was tousled and his eyes were glued to hers. Looking at his expression, not a person in the room could deny his love for her. Beryl took one look at the man staring at her friend and left the floor.

He glanced over at John and nodded. The full, heady notes of a slow song began.

As Charles slid his arm around her waist, she said goodbye to her old demons and in the moment he gently pressed his lips to hers, she decided to trust him with her heart.

"Take me home." She whispered.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

In the darkness of her bedroom, Charles kissed her carefully, longingly. He held her close to him, and he swayed with her to a song only they could hear. Gently, slowly, they undressed one another. He replaced every article of clothing with whispered kisses and sweet words of love. When they were both completely undressed, Charles let his eyes linger over her beautiful body. He reached out and gently touched the scar across her abdomen, a silent question in his eyes.

"I was married, once. He was a violent man. It led to..." She gestured to her belly, a tear running down her cheek. Charles bent to his knees before her, pulling her to him with his large, gentle hands on her hips. He placed a soft kiss on her scar.

"I wish I could have been there for you." He left unspoken the words she knew he meant.

 _I wish I could have held you when you cried, when the loss tore at your heart like a jagged blade. I wish I could have saved you from the pain and the sadness. I wish I had met you sooner._

She pulled him to his feet and kissed him with fervor. He pulled her impossibly close, pressing every plane of her body to his. She melted into the hardness of his chest and shoulders. She brushed her lips across his heart.

"Take me to bed, Charles."

Charles laid her down on the bed. He spared a moment to revel in her beautiful presence. Her auburn hair spread out across the pillow, her flushed skin and rosy lips stole his breath. He knew, right then, he would never be able to leave her.

"I love you, Elsie. I love you."

Elsie reached for him. As he knelt over her, she pulled his ear down to her lips. "I love you too, you wonderful man."

Slowly, Charles and Elsie learned one another's bodies. Until the earliest hours of the morning they made love, imprinting their hearts and souls on one another until they couldn't remember ever having lived without the other.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

Elsie awoke the next morning to find Charles splayed across the bed on his stomach. He face was tucked into the soft swell of her stomach, and his snores tickled her as he rumbled against her side. She laughed, and he woke with a start.

"Elsie? What- where-"

"You were snoring. It tickled."

Charles, now taking in his surroundings, felt himself become painfully aware of the woman before him. His body responded to the sight of Elsie, naked and sleepy eyed, with such intensity that he felt lightheaded from the rush of blood to other extremities. Elsie sensed the change in his awareness and her eyes darkened in response.

"Wait." She said, gently pushing him away. He pouted. " I have a better idea," she said seductively. She led him into the bathroom and turned the shower on.

"Mmm, you were right, excellent idea." He murmured as he stepped into the shower with her.

The warm water caressed her back as he kneeled and ran his mouth across her stomach, sucking and kissing the places he had discovered the night before. Elsie ran her fingers through his silver and black hair, gently tugging at him and pulling him up to her mouth. He kissed her lips, and she nipped his bottom lip, then immediately sucked his tongue into her mouth. Charles moaned into her kiss. He groaned and grabbed her hips, thrusting upwards. But Elsie was having none of his impatience.

"Now, now ... patience." She pushed him against the shower wall. He had never been taken charge of like this. She was dragging her teeth gently along his neckline now, and he was struggling for breath. With every nibble of her delectable mouth he was one step closer to losing it. Watching her teasing him and pleasuring him while barely touching him drove him wild. Like a madman, he was close to an edge he didn't want to cross alone, so he grabbed Elsie and slid down to the floor of the shower.

He slid her down to sit on his lap, and she took him inside of her, tightening around him as he pressed into her softness.

"Elsie, Elsie, Elsie, I love you. You are beautiful. I love you." The soft, heartfelt words spilled from his mouth as she slid up and down. She swirled her hips over his and he was lost, burning up, inside and out, yelling her name as he soared into oblivion.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

An hour later they sat in the kitchen together eating a pleasant breakfast of omelets, bacon and toast. Willa gazed lovingly at the platter of bacon, and when Elsie turned to grab the teakettle from the stove Charles surreptitiously tossed the dog a slice of meat. Without turning her back, Elsie scolded him.

"She shouldn't be eating people food!"

Charles laughed, realizing in that moment he was happier than he could ever remember being in his life. Elsie turned and set a mug of tea in front of him.

"What's that look for?" Elsie asked. Charles just leaned over to her for a kiss.

"I am a happy man, that's all."

Elsie smiled and gently perched herself on his lap. "And I am a happy woman." She pulled Charles in for another kiss. Willa stole half of the bacon from the platter, but neither Elsie nor Charles noticed a thing.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

The next few days were bliss. Elsie and Charles were never apart for more than an hour or two, and then only by necessity to teach a class or complete some grading or attend a meeting. Their insatiable appetites had almost gotten the better of them more than once. A student had walked in on Charles with his hand on its way up Elsie's skirt in his classroom the day prior. Thankfully, the student was clearly not paying attention and they were able to put enough distance between them before they were officially caught.

But that had only marked the beginning of their recklessness. Charles would sneak into Else's office whenever his schedule permitted and kiss her senseless. At one such moment, Beryl had burst into Elsie's office in a tizzy.

Charles had Elsie pinned against the wall, her right leg help wrapped around his waist and his hand inside her blouse. He was making his way down Elsie's neck, his mouth hot against her skin, her breathing ragged and loud, when Beryl slammed the door to Elsie's office open.

"Elspeth, do you know what that idiot Mrs. Bird di- Oh, bloody hell, you two!"

Charles had dropped Elsie's leg in his surprise and Elsie's shirt had fallen open. She quickly grabbed both sides of the blouse and held them together, but she couldn't hide her flaming face or the guilty look it now wore.

"You two are like bloody rabbits!" With that exclamation, Beryl stormed right back out the door she had entered only moments before. Elsie dissolved into laughter at the absurd situation.

"I'm sorry. But she's right. We'll have to be more careful." Elsie buttoned her shirt up.

"Yes, we will. Next time we will have to hide in my closet!" Charles laughed and kissed her once more before departing for his classroom.

Elsie was amazed at her voracious excitement, but she was truly astonished at her reckless behavior during one regular Wednesday afternoon. She had not seen Charles the evening before, their first away from one another since Friday. She was having lunch with him but as it was still an hour until his class was finished, she didn't expect to see him. Her History of European Literature class had just ended, and the students were filing out. Elsie was at her office door when Charles walked in just as the last student was leaving. Elsie was happy to see him, but surprised.

"Charles I thought you had class until one?"

Elsie got a good look at his face as he practically barreled toward her. Her breath stopped in her throat as he reached her. He put his hands on her face and held her softly.

"Elsie," Charles breathed the word like a prayer into her neck and then nuzzled her, placing gentle, warm kisses below her ear and in a line down her neck. Elsie shuddered and attempted to gather her wits, pushing against his hold on her. He moved then and pinned her arms above her head against the door and clasped her hands firmly in his own, making it nearly impossible to struggle without hurting herself. And it was becoming harder and harder to make her body listen; he had graduated from her neck to the tops of her breasts, and his hot lips grazed the line of the shirt where it impeded his sensual progress. He paused, clearly thinking something over, and she seized the moment to scold him.

"Charles, stop."

And he did, just like that. He dropped her hands and stepped away so quickly she wasn't even certain he had moved. She felt the loss of his heat like a slap. Taking a deep breath, Elsie readjusted the purple shirt so it covered her more discreetly and she brushed the loose pieces of hair away from her face. Clearing her throat, she dared to look at him.

His deep hazel eyes were absolutely on fire, and her knees gave slightly at the heat in his gaze. Steadying herself, Elsie secured her thoughts and said, "This is not right. I will not do this, not here." Her piece said, she closed her mouth and waited for him to speak.

Charles looked her up and down. He licked his lips. Elsie's breath caught as she met his gaze. He never said a word.

Pinning her against the wall behind them, Charles lifted her up and forced her legs open. She gripped his waist with her legs and he ground his groin between at the junction of her thighs.

In that moment, it was as though Elsie's instincts took over, all thoughts of propriety gone. She threw her head back and moaned at the feel of him, strong and driving as he gripped her backside in his hands. He braced her body against the wall and his hands continued upward. He lingered at her waist pulling her tighter to him and fusing their bodies tighter where the fire burned the hottest. Elsie couldn't think or feel or hear anything beyond what Charles was doing to her, and she didn't even care. It was too late to go back now and she found she didn't want to. This felt so good, so delicious, and she wanted it so badly.

Elsie put forth her maximum effort to gather her thoughts and say, "Ok! I give in! You win Charles, but not here. In-in my office " And he lowered her to the floor, grabbed her hand, and all but dragged her into the office. Once inside, Charles turned and slammed the door, managing to growl out, "Lock?"

Elsie brushed against him and he shivered as she flipped the ancient gold lock on the handle. Before she could turn around, Charles came up behind her and pressed her into the door. He slid his hands up the front of her body, indecently and sexily touching all of the most sensitive areas before finding her breasts.

"Do you like this shirt?" He asked her in a strained voice. She had bought the fake purple silk thing at a yard sale, so she shook her head no, anticipating with quivering delight what he was planning. In the moment after she answered, Charles grabbed the edge of the shirt and ripped it from her body, exposing her left breast just hidden behind a transparent white lace bra.

Now he whirled Elsie around, running his hands down the front of her. Taking her lips, he kissed her carefully before resuming his fevered pace. Grabbing both sides of the ruined shirt in either hand, he tore the thing from her with such force her breasts swayed as he dropped the shirt. His next move made her gasp, as he bent and took an inflamed nipple into his mouth, sucking on her breast right through the lace of her bra. Somehow, the lace enhanced the already intense sensation, making the feel of his tongue grazing her nipple almost unbearable. She whimpered and grabbed his thick hair, and he abandoned her breasts and moved lower. Planting a kiss on her lower belly, he stood and guided her quickly to the flowered love seat she had in her office. Pushing her gently into a sitting position, Charles shoved the small coffee table in front of the loveseat out of his way and bent in front of Elsie. His wicked grin knotted things low in her belly and she unconsciously grabbed at the seat cushions, her fingers flexing and unflexing in anticipation of the promise of great pleasure in his eyes. Pulling her legs apart, Charles slid his hands up the insides of her thighs until he reached their apex. He ran his fingers down the length of her sex, feeling the ready wetness through her panties. She shuddered, and he chuckled, low and deep. Reaching up, he slid her panties down her legs as she gave him a blazing look of desire that was nearly his undoing.

Bending between her legs and looking into her eyes, he grabbed the tops of her legs and pulled her closer to his body. She shivered, and he watched her face as he lowered his mouth to her sex and began his ministrations. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she moaned, which he took as an invitation to intensify his efforts. He put his hands around her bottom and secured his grasp before going down on her once again. Her legs were spread wide for him now, and he could feel her shudder as he flicked her with his tongue. Her breathing came fast and shallow, and she reached up to bury her fingers in his unruly thick hair. Right before she toppled over the edge, Charles stopped and stood up. She cried out at the severed connection, wanting him back between her thighs immediately.

Standing, Charles pulled her up with him. Unstable on her legs, she swayed a bit until he steadied her. He sat then, and divested himself of his jeans and boxers. Her mouth formed a small "o" at the sight of him. Lifting her by the waist and placing her on his lap, she shocked him by reaching down and trying to guide him in. He stopped her progress by lifting her body up and gently teasing her down onto him once, twice, three times before he allowed himself to plunge inside her.

She gasped with the stretching, the pure energy of his thrust. Her body clung to him, held on as he gyrated his hips and drove into her once more. Her head snapped back, and her chest thrust forward. The wet spots on the lace of her white bra showed her dark nipples, so he reached around and unclipped her bra. Her breasts were gorgeous, her nipples sweet and pert and extremely dusky and taut. He flicked one with his thumb and then pulled her forward so he could take them into his mouth. Him inside of her and her nipple in his mouth made him shudder, and he thrust harder and faster. She returned his thrusts, bracing herself by gripping the back of the loveseat. The force of their combined efforts rocked the little settee quite literally, and he was soon lost in the feel and smell of her.

Elsie was equally entranced. The initial entry had almost been too much. She had shuddered with the effort of holding off her orgasm. But she knew it was coming like a runaway train, and the moment he had taken her nipple into his mouth she reached behind him and gripped the loveseat, relishing in the feel of control as she drove him deeper and deeper into her. The moans, she realized, were coming from her. His shaft was very thick and hit her at a deeper point from this angle, and the feel of that much man within her was like a dull razor, riding the point between intense pleasure and pain. When she could not hold back anymore, she tightened hard around his shaft as he thrust one last time before reaching his own climax. She sat then, with him still inside of her, and savored the feel of his heartbeat throbbing against the most intimate part of her.

Just to see what it would do, Elsie tightened around his spent member, and he moaned aloud, involuntarily thrusting into her again. The sensation, so soon after the earth shattering orgasm, grated her senses and she cried out with pleasure, pitching her upper body forward into his embrace. He chuckled again, enjoying the power to make her moan. He thrust again, then once more, and continued while she practically cried with the intensity of it. He was too much within her and the feeling of him thrusting made her breathless and inflamed. It took him less than a minute to bring her to her second climax, and she collapsed against him then, utterly and completely spent. They kissed each other tenderly while exploring each other's bodies. Sooner than she expected, he began to grow hard inside of her. She gasped at the sensation of it, and they wasted no time in utilizing his condition.

An hour and a half later, Elsie glanced at the clock and swore. "Oh, I have a lecture in twenty minutes!"

Charles laughed. "Well, you can always skip. You know, a sick day."

She considered it for a moment before shaking her head. "No, I really can't. I would absolutely love to, but I am giving a test today. An oral test and I must be there."

"Are you sure?" he said. She sighed and nodded, so he kissed her again, and then helped untangle their bodies. He groaned as he watched her try to tidy herself, deliciously pleased just to gaze at her. Elsie blushed and the dark red of it spread from her neck to her knees. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him, and then disappeared into the small storage closet at the back of the room. A few moments later she emerged with a packet of wet wipes. She handed him some then returned to the closet while they each cleaned up. Charles was not about to be shut out, however, so he followed her into the closet and stole kisses every chance he could, much to her apparent embarrassment. He also ran his fingers in soft trails down her back, between her shoulders and across her collarbone, relishing every moment of connection. She continued to blush, but her soft sighs told him she enjoyed the contact as much as he did.

Elsie was almost dressed when she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. In her hand were the shredded remains of her yard-sale shirt. Looking at Charles, half smiling, half panicking, Elsie asked, "What am I going to do?"

Charles said, facetiously, "Go like that? There wouldn't be a male in the class who could speak; hell, the women too. You'd be done in half the time." Elsie waved her hand at him, playfully dismissive as her cheeks tinged pink, and then resumed her worries.

"Really, Charles, what I am going to wear? I'm not particularly picky, but having a shirt is something of a necessity. I'm certain I would be breaking the dress code with this outfit." She gestured to the ivory dress skirt, ivory pumps, and see-through white lace bra that currently made up her wardrobe. Charles swallowed and looked away, entirely tempted to start the entire last hour all over again. But he knew how dedicated she was to her work, so he attempted to form rational thought.

"Could you ask Beryl? I mean, she is your best friend, right? She wouldn't ask too many questions if you gave her an excuse?"

Elsie smirked and then said, " No questions? Not likely. Actually, not possible. She would be all over this. It would take her thirty seconds to figure out the truth and then I would be embarrassed and forced to confess!"

Charles sauntered over to Elsie, already aching for her again but knowing he would have to keep himself in check. "What we did, mmm? More like what I plan to do again" Charles kissed her neck and put his hands on her hips, "and again," He moved his hands to her bottom and continued to kiss a line down her throat, "and again ,and again, and again." After a few seconds, when the kisses began to get too hot and heavy and he could feel himself losing control, he stepped away and took a deep breath of air.

"I'm sorry. You are so damn irresistible."

Elsie blushed and unconsciously covered her chest with her arms. Quietly in her thick Scottish brogue she said, "Charles, please. I am under no illusions about my level of irresistibility. And besides that, I am in desperate need of a shirt." She turned away from him and gazed out the window of her office, gasping audibly when she realized the curtains weren't drawn all the way closed. Thankfully, the window faced an empty wheat field, so it was unlikely that anyone had been able to see them in their haste of passion. Even so, Elsie drew the curtains closed. Charles came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He turned her around and pulled her into him.

His deep voice rumbled as he brushed his hands down her arms. "Don't ever think you are undesirable. You are a beautiful, passionate woman that I cannot believe I am lucky enough to know." He held her away for just a moment to look into her eyes, eyes that were silently accusing him of lying, and then he gently kissed her lips. "Now, let's find you a shirt."

ECECECECECECECECECECE

 _Click. Click. Click. Click._ The shutter snapped at a steady pace. Carlisle flicked his cigarette onto the ground, crushing a handful of the willowy wheat stalks as he smashed the glowing end into the dirt.


End file.
